Red Mittens and a Rose Garden – the Trisha Pike Chronicles
by fictionalmike
Summary: AF: What if there was a long-term consequence to the weekend romp between Lt Caitlin Pike and Lt Harmon Rabb jr at that motel back in the summer of 1996? What is the responsible way to deal with the unexpected aftermath some 20 years later? How do Harmon and Caitlin Rabb name the next generation of Rabb children?
1. Just bring your mittens

**Red Mittens and a Rose Garden – the Trisha Pike Chronicles, **

**Chapter 01 - "Just bring your mittens" **

**A/N: AU. **What if there was a consequence to the weekend romp between Lt Caitlin Pike and Lt Harmon Rabb jr at that motel back in the summer of 1996? What is the responsible way to deal with an unexpected aftermath? Probably an "eight" on the JAG smut-o-meter - Chapter one is a smut-fest to set the scene. As always, this is a work of fiction - I am just borrowing the characters and imagining the filling of some gaps and plot holes from nearly 25 years ago.

**A/N – link to Canon Episodes:** Firstly, "A New Life (Pilot) – first broadcast 23-Sep-1995. "Brig Break" (S01Ep08) first broadcast 02-Dec-1995): "Ares" (S01Ep21) first broadcast 22-May-1996). Then we move on to "We the people" (S02Ep01) first broadcast 03-Jan-2007 and "Touch and Go" (S06Ep10) first broadcast 09-Jan-2001.

**A/N: Publication date: 28-11-2019:** A bit of AU doodling on a BA flight from LHR to LAX ahead of the USA's Thanksgiving Day on Thursday next.

_**Mike: mid-Atlantic, 25-11-2019**_

**Characters from FFNET – C Pike, H Rabb jr.**

**RMRG-RMRG-RMRG-RMRG**

**Ch01 – "Red Mittens and a Rose Garden – just bring your mittens" **

**RMRG-RMRG-RMRG-RMRG**

**Friday 14****th**** June 1996 – 10:13hrs EST**

**Break room, JAG HQ, Falls Church VA:**

Caitlin had been saddened to receive the message from Teddy Lindsey that Admiral Brovo was loaning her to Special Projects. On the bright side, she rationalised, it left her free to scratch an itch which had been growing more intense over recent times.

That itch was a certain Navy lieutenant and former F-14 driver, one Harmon Rabb jr. They had worked together in JAG and she had described him, to her fellow JAG Megan Austin when they had visited a spa for a girls' weekend away, as most likely to be "_the best lay I never had_". They had steadily grown closer and she had welcomed his desire to take the relationship to the next level. They had originally tried to hook up once they were off the carrier back in the previous summer.

Running around the SeaTac island forest paths, waving a white flag during the "brig break" nuclear weapons case some three months earlier, had brought home to Cait just how attracted she was to Harm. Unfortunately, the post-disarming celebration in the car was not an appropriate time for her to make a move, especially as her friend Meg Austin was also in the vehicle.

With their next adventure off the coast of Korea, she and Harm thought "third time lucky." They had quietly arranged matching weekend time off-duty. His final instructions were murmured as she topped up her coffee, standing close to him as he reached for a fresh mug.

**"****_Just bring your mittens._****"**

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**Friday 14****th**** June 1996 – 18:36hrs EST**

**Hilton Garden Inn, 2hrs north of Falls Church; Suite 1-43:**

**"****_Just bring your mittens._****"**

Harm's "instructions" had resulted in a salute and a quizzical "_OK Harm, just the red pair?_" spunky riposte from Cait. They had travelled separately to the motel after work. Meeting up on the flight after the adventure over the "Ares" system off the coast of Korea had rekindled their friendship. Three weeks later they acted on that impulse whilst writing up the After-Action Report on their seaborne adventure and reporting back to JAG HQ.

So now she was lining up for what the Brits would describe as "_a dirty weekend away_". No phones, off duty, wine on tap, gourmet food in the restaurant and hot tubs in every suite. She had set her mind on launching one Harmon Rabb Jr into low earth orbit as she comprehensively scratched her itch. Her proposition had been well-received by Harm.

Harm's riposte, about bringing her mittens, merely spiked the Caitlin Pike spirit of devilment as she decided that she would seriously rock his world. Whether this developed into a relationship or would simply be remembered fondly as a single great weekend of shagging, she would leave for history to decide.

Dressing on that Friday morning, she decided to surprise Harm. The black leather corset framed her "assets" beautifully and the USN uniform concealed everything as she carefully buttoned herself in. She tucked the laces inside the back of her uniform skirt, feeling them brushing occasionally against the backs of her upper thighs as she walked around the JAG HQ and sat, legs together and back arched straight, in her office chair. She would have to sit (and move) very carefully throughout today, but the end result should be well-worth a day of potential discomfort, when she saw the look on Harm's face as he unwrapped his "present" later in the privacy of the motel room.

She glided into the office and worked for the day as a "straight-laced" lawyer, sliding out at secure time to drive up to the motel. Harm would follow "a little later" after clearing his difficult court case.

An hour into the journey to the motel, her spine was screaming for mercy. She hadn't driven for more than 30 minutes previously whilst corseted and today she had gone *well* over that limit. She then (too late) remembered her mother's words: "_Always give yourself time to submit to the embrace of the corset._"

Fortunately a small cushion, carefully rolled up, provided the necessary support after she had made a pit-stop at a gas station. This meant that she arrived at the motel in a more comfortable state and ready to rock Harm's world. Getting out of her low-slung sports car took a little planning but - with knees together and a hand placed on the side of her cockpit - she achieved an exit and stood tall, smoothing down her uniform as she headed for the trunk.

She had arrived ahead of Harm and had managed the motel check-in process, leaving word that her "husband" would be arriving later and to give him the second key. Quickly turning the Academy ring around on her ring finger as she left the car had enabled her to maintain the subterfuge. Frankly, the spotty youth in reception was awed by the cut and shape of her uniform, so she was checked in and heading for the suite in very short order.

Arriving in the suite, she unpacked and hung up all of the civilian clothing and outfits which she had planned for the weekend. She kicked off her uniform courts and stepped up into a pair of black stilettoes with four-inch heels. This would bring her close to Harm's eye level (as she was only an inch below the 5'11" stature of her good friend Megan Austin). For the finishing touch, she pulled on a pair of red mittens.

The stilettoes had been chosen some years before, during a shopping trip with a girlfriend. On returning home, Cait had tried walking in them and realised rapidly that they were better suited to bedroom adventures. She had proven this theory with a previous boyfriend – the one who had funded her corset and enjoyed her body before he was deployed. Sadly, he had not returned from active service.

She admired herself in the long mirror on the wardrobe door, then a devilish idea struck her. She took off the mittens then, reaching up beneath her skirt (not easy given her "structured" underpinnings), and being careful not to disturb the stockings, she carefully removed her panties, going "commando" to welcome her weekend lover. A welcome breeze greeted her as she strode across the room to fill the laundry bag in the wardrobe. She refreshed her lipstick – the eye-shadow applied at the gas station still looked perfect.

Suitably (un-)dressed and shod, she pulled on the mittens once more and relaxed on the bed to await her lover. Well, she realised, the term "relaxed" was relative given the supportive yet commanding grip of the corset. Despite the constrictions, she was quite tired from the journey at the end of a busy working week in JAG HQ. A half-hour later she had fallen asleep, fully-uniformed and with her red mittens on display for Harm.

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**Friday 14****th**** June 1996 – 19:47hrs EST**

**Hilton Garden Inn, 2hrs north of Falls Church:**

Two things greeted Harm as he finally arrived in the room, after surviving the surprise of the "_Your wife is ready for you in suite 1-43_" comment from the smirking Receptionist.

First, he heard the comforting sound of Caitlin Pike snoring gently. Secondly, he noticed her skyscraper heels pointing at him as he walked into the bedroom area, removing his own jacket and shoes.

He stepped in closer, to admire the view.

This was going to be a good weekend – for both of them!

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**Friday 14****th**** June 1996 – 19:22hrs EST**

**Hilton Garden Inn, 2hrs north of Falls Church; Suite 1-43:**

He carefully removed her shoes and, planting kisses on every inch, worked his way up her stocking-clad legs, carefully rolling back her skirt. He felt comfortable doing this, because Caitlin's red mittens were a clear signal that she was an active participant in the weekend's activities.

As he reached what was known colloquially as "_the Chuckle Line_" (the top line of a lady's stockings - based on the premise that once you were here, you were laughing!) he carefully ran an exploratory hand further up beneath Cait's uniform skirt. She moaned gently and her thighs parted slightly as his fingers probed towards their target.

He was shocked to discover that Miss "buttoned-down naval lady" Pike had dispensed with the need for underwear and thus it was that his fingers moved into a very soft, warm, welcoming part of her anatomy.

Sitting on the bed alongside Cait's sleeping form, Harm continued exploring.

At which point Caitlin Pike rolled over, closing her thighs and trapping his hand in a *very* compromising (yet potentially pleasurable) position!

"_Oh darn!_" was Harm's first reaction.

It was also his second reaction as his spine recorded its displeasure at his contortions!

Then Caitlin began to surface.

Her body was sending signals that she didn't recognise. Nearly a year had passed since she had last gotten laid and she knew that it wasn't her previous lover – the Marine - because he had deployed and, sadly, would not be returning.

Then she remembered the weekend proposition and her preparations: the corset, the drive in the car, the shoes, so that she was just awaiting the arrival of:

"Harm?"

"None other; hello "wife" and nice to see you too."

Caitlin Pike surfaced to full consciousness, just as she realised that her pleasure centre was sounding alarm bells of the "_sensory overload_" category.

She giggled as she realised fully where his hand had reached. The giggle was very distinctive and set all sorts of thoughts racing around Harm's imagination as he looked deep into Cait's eyes.

"Hmm, welcome '_husband_' and it is nice to see you."

"Well. '_wife_', it is nice that that young receptionist didn't cotton on to what your plan was, but I definitely *do* appreciate the stockings and the heels and your *choice* of underwear." He laughed as he took stock of her left hand. "And the ring was a nice touch - Mrs Pike!"

Harm looked deep into her eyes once more as he leaned in for the first kiss of the weekend – which was, of course, enthusiastically reciprocated. Caitlin's response led her, instinctively, to tighter her thighs and roll over further towards Harm, causing him to…

_"__Aargh, Cait, my hand!"_

_"__Oh shit, so sorry Harm, but – OH MY GOD!"_

Her twisting caused Harm's hand to open; given where it was and the way that his fingers had just splayed, there was only one possible response for her body.

The over-stimulation pushed Caitlin over the edge – and Caitlin Pike, going over the edge, was not a quiet experience for the audience!

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**Friday 14****th**** June 1996 – 19:57hrs EST**

**Hilton Garden Inn, 2hrs north of Falls Church; Suite 1-43:**

Some minutes passed before her scrambled brain cells returned to earth and were able to understand the sensory overload.

Caitlin's conscious thought processes returned even later.

"Jeez Harm, that was stunning (on *so* many levels!) but please, don't sneak up under a girl like that. I would prefer an informed, frontal assault next time, Harm."

She rolled back, parting her thighs to release him. As Harm's hand withdrew, her lips gave an involuntary sigh.

Harm smiled. "Well, madam wife, thank you for leaving the welcome wagon hitched at the door – and on the bed." She giggled and he leaned across to kiss her, resting his other hand on her side. He felt resistance where a trim, toned, stomach should be on the fit young woman who was stretched out alongside him. He pressed harder – and got nowhere.

"Cait, what are you wearing?" His poor over-stimulated brain was already linking stilettoes, stockings and an absence of underwear. Harmon Rabb's brain was adding two plus two and forming answers closer to "69"!

She smiled, rolling onto her side to welcome him as both of their heart rates returned closer to normal.

"Well, Harm, I just thought I would welcome my sailor home from the seas. I am amazed that Harriet didn't spot anything today."

He laughed; "You mean, you were wearing *this* all day - at work?"

She nodded, smiling conspiratorially.

"Caitlin Pike, you are one devious woman." His hands explored the front of her uniform jacket, feeling gently but encountering the underlying resistance of leather and steel at every point until he reached – and loosened - her neck-tab. His hands then worked back downwards, unbuttoning her outer jacket.

Despite her good inner core strength, Cait was unable to sit herself up – the corset simply nullified and defeated her tummy muscles in their efforts to contract, so she raised her arms and looked appealingly at Harm. Pulling her up into a seated position on the bed, he gently removed her uniform jacket and placed it lovingly onto a hanger.

Her uniform shirt came next, as he slowly unbuttoned her then revealed the object of his fantasies in all its shiny black glory, encasing the restrained swell of her breasts and concealing her middle torso down to the point where the corset disappeared beneath the waist-band of her uniform skirt.

"Shoes back on, please, Harm".

Obligingly, Harm retrieved her stilettoes and, bending down, re-fitted them to her feet. He offered a supporting hand and she stood upright with the bed behind her knees. She leaned in and kissed him passionately, she caressed his face with her mittens as she removed a smear of lipstick from his mouth.

She smiled: "Not quite your shade, Harm. Now then, Lieutenant Rabb, I believe that you are overdressed."

Placing her mittens on the bed beside her, she moved in and systematically stripped him down to his underwear. Keeping her knees together to overcome the imbalance inflicted by her heels, she slowly squatted down to help remove his trousers. Task completed, she looked straight ahead, licking her ruby lips.

"Hmm, I didn't have you as a boxers man, Harm. I had you down for briefs or trunks."

Harm's over-stimulated member was steadily making its escape from the boxers as Harm stepped forward, ready to assist Caitlin in removing her uniform skirt, which slid down her toned legs with a whisper against the silk.

**RMRG-RMRG-RMRG-RMRG**

Stepping out of her skirt, Caitlin stood before him in all her corseted, stockinged and high-heeled glory. She reached across and, once more, pulled on her red mittens.

"OK sailor, I reckon that completes your fantasy."

"It sure does, Caitlin, it sure does."

He closed in on her and they kissed once more, tongues duelling as their hands explored each other's body. He placed his hands on her shoulders and pushed very gently. Yielding, Caitlin took a slow, careful step backwards (maintaining her balance on the skyscraper heels) until her back was against the wall as Harm reached behind her and began to play with her laces.

"Harm, for God's sake don't get me knotted! Pull the long lace below my left buttock."

Harm complied and, as she felt the constriction around her body easing, she opened her arms to facilitate his mission of discovery. Once she was unencumbered and he had laid the corset aside on the vanity unit to air, he stood up to face her. She placed her hands on his hips, steadying him.

"Harmon Rabb – front and centre!"

"Oh yes, ma'am."

As she ran her hands across Harm's front, Caitlin realised that Harm was seriously aroused. His boxers were providing no containment whatsoever. She reckoned that with her heels, she was positioned perfectly to welcome him to her intimate place.

Her hands took control; she didn't need to do anything beyond touch him. As she knelt down carefully once more in her heels and pulled his boxers down he sprang upright, almost straining for release.

Caitlin Pike licked her lips; this was *way* better than she had imagined in her solitary nights in the VOQ during her unplanned year of abstinence. She stood upright once more, braced herself against the wall and parted her knees ready for his entry.

"OK Harm, come make my day!"

"Oh yes ma'am." He moved forwards and slid into her, grasping her perfect buttocks to steady them both. Plunging deep until he was fully buried into her pleasure centre, he watched her eyes glaze over then roll back unto their sockets as her mouth opened in a perfect "Oh!" of surprise and pleasure.

Sensor alarms were firing off in poor Caitlin Pike's overloaded brain. Her knees gave slightly, causing her to slide down his length and slam into his groin. As Harm thrust forward and upwards, Kate realised just how tall he was as the heels of her stilettoes were lifted steadily off the bedroom floor with each thrust. Reaching behind him, she caressed his back with her mittens.

There was little more that Caitlin Pike could do, impaled as she was on the throbbing love of Harmon Rabb jr.

Eventually, Harm reached his trigger point – and emptied himself into Caitlin Pike's welcoming warmth. This caused her muscles to clench around him, triggering a further explosion and draining him dry.

Caitlin Pike had left the planet! The pack of condoms which she had put in the night-stand was forgotten.

In the back of her orgasm-fogged mind, she hoped that the wall of the room was not adjacent to anyone else's room!

**RMRG-RMRG-RMRG-RMRG**

Some minutes later, as he rolled her corset flat and eased her into their Queen-sized bed, Harm kissed Caitlin and complimented her.

"Great outfit, Mrs Rabb; the mittens were the icing on the cake".

The only response from Caitlin Pike was a (very!) contented snore. She would sleep, undisturbed, until 0830hrs on the Saturday morning.

Then, they would resume their "dirty weekend".

**RMRG-RMRG-RMRG-RMRG**

**A few days afterwards over lunch – and by mutual agreement – they agreed to regard that 1996 weekend as a one-off. As it happened, they would only meet up once more five years later, at the January 2001 trial of Commander Caitlin Pike some years later when Harm was with Renee.**

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**We now fast-forward to the introductory episode of Season Two.**

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**2****nd**** January 1997. ****The Rose Garden, White House, 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue, Washington DC:**

Harm stood still as the President awarded him his DFC. The citation was read out.

"_You may single-handedly give lawyers a good name, Mr Rabb._"

"Thank you Mr President."

As Harm was buttonholed by Admiral Chegwidden and spirited away with his new female Marine partner on their new mission to Arizona, he failed to notice the statuesque brunette looking down from an office window beyond.

She stood tall, dressed in the standard USN maternity uniform and displaying her lieutenant's bars. She had her hands on her six-month baby "bump" as she looked out at the ceremony, gently stroking her hands absent-mindedly over the baby "bump".

She leaned down and spoke to the baby. "Don't worry, little Patricia: one day your Daddy will know you."

"Caitlin, aren't you going to tell him now - he's right there?" Her uncle Jethro looked concerned.

"Uncle Jethro, he is about to go off on some duty somewhere and that new Marines colonel will support him."

"But…"; for once her Uncle was speechless.

"Look Uncle Jethro, you have taught me your rules for my next Navy assignment (when the mat leave is over) and I would hope for a 'Rule 33' moment here – '_Clean up your own mess_'. He is about to deploy with that Marine – although she *DOES* look like Diane Schonke. No, I shall run my maternity leave and then report to Okinawa."

She stepped away, heading back to continue her maternity leave before returning to the US Navy via a new base on the West Coast before heading across to Japan to resume her career.

Harm's career continued through the 1990s and the noughties. When he next met Cait in 2001 at her court martial, he was amazed at how slim his former partner had become when they hugged at the point of farewell. Her face had slimmed down, accentuating her features. He realised that he could almost feel every rib through her uniform jacket, as she smiled wistfully and set off for the next stage of her life and career.

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**Friday 3****rd**** June 2016 – 10:31hrs EST, Office of Vice Admiral Harmon Rabb jr; US Naval Academy Superintendent's office, Annapolis MD:**

The names of the candidates had begun to blur in front of his eyes. Harm wearily took off his reading glasses (an inevitable sign of his 53 years) and rubbed his eyes. Since taking over the Academy from his predecessor, Harm had implemented the extra workload of meeting with every one of the top-rated chosen candidates, part of his process of assuring them that they would be looked after and supported during their time in "his" Academy.

Each young man and woman had gone through gruelling assessments to get here and Harm wanted to be absolutely resolute in his support of each generation of new midshipmen.

The "interviews" continued through the morning. Had *he* ever looked so bright, enthusiastic and yet - somehow - so young and innocent? The names flowed ever-onward:

_Anna Kristina Svenson_

_Andrew Michael Andersen_

_Maria Garcia Lopez_

_Thomas Farragut McGee_

_Susan Margaret Mitchelson_

_Anthony Beaumont Lee_

_Patricia Caitlin Harmony Pike_

Harm reviewed the photograph on the file of the next candidate in front of him, with a finger poised above the intercom which would summon the next candidate. As was his custom, with every file he looked across to the black-edged photograph frame on his desk, which held an old and treasured picture of him with his late wife Sarah.

The photo had been taken, on their honeymoon, when they had flown his bi-plane "Sarah" across the CONUS to visit with his mother Trish and his stepfather Frank Burnett after they had married in 2005 after the coin-toss and transfer to London. He had eventually overcome his fear of falling for Sarah because she bore such a strong resemblance to his lost love Diane Schonke.

It had also been the morning after they had first made love. He and Mac had subsequently tried hard - oh so hard - for a child after they had married in 2005 after their coin-toss and transfer to London.

Unfortunately he had prolonged the "dance" for too long. Basically, he had waited nine years to marry Mac, in which time the endometriosis had steadily worsened, interfering with more of her body. But his "Mac" had been determined to fight on.

She had died in childbirth some years into their marriage, at the end of their sixth troublesome pregnancy as she had, once more, fought desperately to give him his dream, to bring a Rabb successor into the world. Sarah Mackenzie-Rabb's body had finally let her down as she gave her all to help her beloved husband to achieve his - impossible - dream. Their unborn daughter had, sadly, also succumbed.

He was always comforted that their marriage, despite the tragic ending, had been one of love, fun and laughter. Only the endometriosis had been their constant downfall. He smiled as he thought briefly of their happy times, then he switched back to the present.

"_OK Mac, let's see what you think about this one_."

He opened the file.

_"__Hmm: Patricia Caitlin Harmony Pike; DoB __08-March-1997. Single mother working as a lawyer in San Diego, Navy family background claimed."_

Because of the US Navy's "blind hiring" policies, parental names were redacted and only a brief summary of the background information was provided to any interviewing officer.

_"__Top school grades, Honours valedictorian, good references and just past her 19__th__ birthday. Fluent Japanese, excellent IT skills and a marksman from her local gun club. Took a year out to volunteer with Medecins sans Frontiers as a nurse in combat zones. This will be another good candidate and all the pre-validation school reports and Academy reviews are A++ or A+."_

He stabbed the intercom.

"Miss Patricia Caitlin Pike, please, to the Commandant's office."

After the customary knock on the door, Harm stood and walked around the desk, leaving the candidate files secluded on his desk. He then stood by the pair of wing-back armchairs, ready to greet a tall, self-assured young woman with light brown hair tied back into a pony-tail and wearing a dark grey pant-suit.

"Admiral Rabb, I am so pleased to meet you." They shook hands and she settled into the armchair, placing her briefcase on the floor alongside her chair and crossing her legs, to reveal a pair of patent-leather black shoes with four-inch spike heels. Noticing the footwear, Harm recalled that she had walked easily and confidently across the floor of his office.

The customary introduction led to topical discussions of current affairs and world news. Patricia Pike was well-informed, well-spoken, confident and articulate. This well-rounded candidate would make an excellent middy. The interview progressed well and Harm had no hesitation in recommending this candidate for the Academy and he smiled as he disclosed this news to her.

"Oh Admiral, that is wonderful news. What is the next step and could anything prevent this?"

"No, Miss Pike, the background checks are already completed and – in some respects – I am almost an irrelevant step because you have been selected already. Your chain of command inside the Academy will be your first port of call for support. Consider this as an added measure of support to all my incoming new midshipmen, because you may always seek me out during the coming years as you move through the Academy. So welcome aboard, Patricia."

She smiled as she shook his hand once more. Then she looked him directly in the eye.

"Actually Admiral, my Mom and my friends usually call me Trisha. I would like to count you as a future friend, sir, if that would be acceptable?"

Harm nodded: "Very acceptable, Trisha". The shortened name set off several resonations in Harm's mind.

Trisha nodded. "Good, sir. This means that I can now, without fear or favour of causing undue influence, hand over one piece of my family history. My Mom told me that you might be surprised but that you would understand."

Harm's puzzled expression caused her to giggle – a lovely sound which stirred a long-buried memory, somewhere deep in Harmon Rabb's soul.

Leaning down into her briefcase, she pulled out and laid – very carefully – an old and battered red mitten on Harm's desk. Then she sat down in her chair, crossing her legs demurely

**End of Ch01**

**Sits back and awaits reader responses over the Thanksgiving break.**


	2. Echoes from the past

**Red Mittens and a Rose Garden – the Trisha Pike Chronicles, **

**Chapter 02 - "Echo from the past" **

**A/N: AU. **What if there was a consequence to the weekend romp between Lt Caitlin Pike and Lt Harmon Rabb Jr at that motel back in the summer of 1996? What is the responsible way to deal with an unexpected aftermath?

**A/N – link to Canon Episodes:** "We the people" (S02Ep01) first broadcast 03-Jan-2007 and "Touch and Go" (S06Ep10) first broadcast 09-Jan-2001.

**A/N: Publication date: 24-12-2019:** Started as a bit of AU doodling on a BA flight from LHR to LAX ahead of the USA's Thanksgiving Day in 2019. Continued during the road trip, which included Red Rock AZ and La Jolla CA. Merry Christmas to all my readers.

_**Mike: via Arizona, California and back home to the UK, 24-12-2019**_

**Characters from FFNET – C Pike, H Rabb jr plus OC**

**RMRG-RMRG-RMRG-RMRG**

**Ch02 – "Red Mittens and a Rose Garden – an echo from the past" **

**RMRG-RMRG-RMRG-RMRG**

**… ****continued from Chapter 01…**

**Friday 3****rd**** June 2016 – 10:31hrs ES, US Naval Academy, Annapolis MD:**

Harm opened the file.

_"Hmm: Patricia Caitlin Harmony __Pike; DoB_ _08-March-1997. Single__ mother working as a lawyer in San Diego, Navy family background claimed."_

Because of the US Navy's "blind hiring" policies, parental names were redacted and only brief summary information was provided to any interviewing officer.

_"__Top school grades, Honours valedictorian, good references and just past her 19__th__ birthday. Took a year out to volunteer with Medecins sans Frontiers as a nurse in combat zones. This could be a good candidate and all the pre-validation school reports and Academy reviews are A or A+."_

He stabbed the intercom.

"Miss Patricia Caitlin Pike, please, to the Commandant's office."

After the customary knock on the door, Harm stood a,leaving the candidate files secluded on his desk. He then walked around his desk and stood by the pair of wing-back armchairs, ready to greet a tall, self-assured young woman with light brown hair tied back into a pony-tail and wearing a dark grey pant-suit.

"Admiral Rabb, I am so pleased to meet you." They shook hands and she settled into the armchair, placing her briefcase on the floor alongside her chair and crossing her legs, to reveal a pair of patent-leather black shoes with four-inch spike heels. Noticing the footwear, Harm recalled that she had walked easily and confidently across the floor of his office.

The customary introduction led to topical discussions of current affairs and world news. Patricia Pike was well-informed, well-spoken, confident and articulate. This well-rounded candidate would make an excellent middy. The interview progressed well and Harm had no hesitation in recommending this candidate for the Academy and he smiled as he disclosed this news to her.

"Oh Admiral, that is wonderful news. What is the next step and could anything prevent this?"

"No, Miss Pike, the background checks are already completed and – in some respects – I am almost an irrelevant step because you have been selected already. Your chain of command inside the Academy will be your first port of call for support. Consider this as an added measure of support to all my incoming new midshipmen, because you may always seek me out during the coming years as you move through the Academy. So welcome aboard, Patricia."

She smiled as she shook his hand once more. Then she looked him directly in the eye.

"Actually Admiral, my Mom and my friends usually call me Trisha. I would like to count you as a future friend, sir, if that would be acceptable?"

Harm nodded: "Very acceptable, Trisha". The shortened name set off several resonations in Harm's mind.

Trisha nodded. "Good, sir. This means that I can now, without fear or favour of causing undue influence, hand over one piece of my family history. My Mom told me that you might be surprised but that you would understand."

Harm's puzzled expression caused her to giggle – a lovely sound which stirred a long-buried memory, somewhere deep in Harmon Rabb's soul.

Leaning down into her briefcase, she pulled out and laid – very carefully – an old and battered red mitten on Harm's desk.

**RMRG-RMRG-RMRG-RMRG**

**Friday 3****rd**** June 2016 – 10:51hrs ES, US Naval Academy, Annapolis MD:**

Time stood still. The 13 minutes of the interview were forgotten as Harm stared, bemused, at the red mitten his desk.

Trisha Pike smiled encouragingly. Her mom had given her an indication of how things might play out, but she was still enjoying the moment.

Finally Harm regained the power of speech.

"Your mom – I guess she was JAG Lieutenant Caitlin Pike around 20 years ago?"

"Oh yes, Admiral – and she sends her very best wishes. She was always keen that I should achieve the Academy on my own merits – hence the apparent secrecy up until I knew the confirmed outcome of my interview with you."

She smiled: "I do hope that you would forgive me for the secrecy?"

He stood up and held his arms wide. "Instantly, Trisha. God, I can guess how she decided to name you. Come here – if you want – for a hug."

"More than anything in the world right now, Admiral." As she laid her head on his chest, Harm had a flashback – triggered by her perfume - to the scent which Caitlin had used on the "mittens" weekend all those years before.

"Trisha, I wonder how much your mom has told you about the history of the scent that you are wearing."

"Quite a lot, Admiral – almost everything in fact: she thought that you'd notice the shoes as well."

"Yes I did, so your Mom did a good job in briefing you." He took a half-pace back and hugged her around the waist. "At least she kept the corset in the wardrobe."

Trisha Pike smiled enigmatically. "You know, Admiral, my mom says that a girl has to retain *some* secrets!"

As they separated, Trish looked up to him.

"I guess, Admiral, that we need to observe ground rules and that you will need to let the Academy and my instructors know?"

"Well, let's not be too hasty; I shall, of course, take advice from the supervisory board but there may be value in keeping your parentage sequestered. Let me think about this and consult, please Trisha." He looked at his watch. "Darn, my next interview starts shortly. Let me guide you out to my PA and I'll ask her to arrange an escort to your car."

"Thanks Da… err, Admiral!" Trisha's eyes twinkled with the devilment which came from almost calling him "Dad".

Harm smiled warmly in acknowledgement. "G'wan, git along down there" he joked. "Please let your mom know that - if the feeling is mutual – I would love to catch up."

"Well Admiral, she had already told me that she would love to hook up with you once the secret was known."

"Please tell her that I shall be awaiting her call."

"Of course, sir." Trisha exited via the door indicated.

Harm hesitated for a good two minutes, lost in thought, before he picked up the next candidate's file.

**RMRG-RMRG-RMRG-RMRG**

**Friday 3****rd**** June 2016 – 15:10hrs EST, Room 309, The Maryland Hotel, Annapolis MD:**

"Hi Mom, I'm back – and everything went fine, just as you predicted." Trisha kicked off her heels and slid on a pair of the hotel slippers as she strolled across the floor towards her mother's chair.

Kate Pike rose from her armchair, took off her reading glasses and marked her page in her book, then stood to hug her daughter. Barefoot, Trisha's eyes were level with Caitlin's eyebrows.

Every time her daughter stood close to her, she reminded herself that the gene pool within Trisha came from two very tall people. Her young gazelle had left her behind a year ago, on her 18th birthday. She knew that Trisha would always stand tall and reflect her father's attitudes as well as Caitlin's, so her desire to become an officer in the USN was completely understandable.

Caitlin had encouraged Trisha in her career plan, completing the paperwork as a single parent to ensure that Trisha's applications would meet all the standards for admission to the Academy.

"So, baby girl, what comes next?" Caitlin walked across to the coffee pot, preparing to pour two cups.

"Well, he was surprised when I produced the mitten, then he was speechless!" Trisha giggled. "Then we had a very quick and civilised conversation, which we had to cut short because the next candidate was outside. The poor Admiral was on quite a conveyor belt of young candidates, mom."

Trisha then recalled the main piece of information which she had brought back from the Academy.

"Mom, he wants to meet you."

Caitlin paused, coffee in hand, then swivelled to look at her daughter. For the first time in a few years, Trisha saw doubt and uncertainty written on her mom's face.

"Mom, what is it?"

"Oh, I'm not sure, darling. We had a fabulous weekend back in '96 and – obviously – we created you, but then we moved apart and I never told him. At New Year's of 1997, I watched him receive his second DFC but, before I could go down to see him he had been spirited away by the Admiral on a new case in – I think – New Mexico. Then, at my court-martial four years later in early 2001, he was involved with Renee and I realised that he was carrying a torch for his Marine partner, a lady called Sarah Mackenzie - or 'Mac' to her colleagues. He didn't need a third woman in his life and, although he claimed not to be involved with Mac, I could see it in his eyes. I had walked into his office, all prepared and ready to tell him about our daughter, but Renee was there and then 'Mac' walked in, so the moment was lost. Our final conversation was overshadowed by 'Mac' becoming engaged to some obnoxious Australian exchange officer, so I just smiled and walked away. The timing just wasn't right to tell him."

She sighed: "So, I left Falls Church, never told him about you, then concentrated on bringing you up. Turns out, he and Mac married four years later when the new JAG was about to split them up. I guessed that, one day, you would meet him by accident or design, so the application to the Academy was like a heaven-sent opportunity for you and your father to get to meet finally."

"I understand that Mom, but what about the two of you?"

Caitlin's shoulders slumped. "Oh baby girl, it just wasn't meant to be, I guess. After the court-martial in '01 my career got back on track. Then, once I had got my twenty in and settled into the Commander rank, I transferred across to the civilian practice in San Diego and concentrated on building a home for you alongside my civilian career."

The wistful look in Caitlin's eyes prompted Trisha to ask the question which had troubled her for some years.

"Mom, did you ever love again?"

Caitlin sighed; this was the question that she had been dreading. It went to the heart of her nearly twenty years of celibacy – and that had been a major turnaround for Caitlin Pike, who had previously loved sex at every opportunity before her unplanned pregnancy. The unexpected conception of Trisha had thrown a major spanner in the works and she had taken a fresh path - motherhood. She had concentrated on building first a nest, then a home, for her daughter and had then returned to her service as a highly-regarded USN officer, returning to sea as a fully-serving officer. This had included the unfortunate incident with Admiral Hollenbeck, which was dredged up at her court martial along with her disastrous dalliance with the slimeball on the cruiser. But then, she had still enjoyed the warm memories of that wonderful fulfilling weekend with Harm.

At which point her sex life had stopped for some 20 years!

Now, with Trisha accepted and enrolled – entirely through her own efforts – into the Academy and Harm now aware of her provenance, things might be looking up. Giving birth to Trisha at the age of 27 had been fulfilling, but Caitlin was beginning to realise, at 47, what might have passed her by.

She smiled, pulled Trisha's head gently downwards and kissed the crown of her daughter's head.

**RMRG-RMRG-RMRG-RMRG**

**End of Ch02**

**++++++++++++Cut above here for FFN Publication.**

**RMRG-RMRG-RMRG-RMRG**


	3. Fond memories

**Red Mittens and a Rose Garden – the Trisha Pike Chronicles, **

**Chapter 03 - "Fond memories" **

**A/N: AU. **What if there was a long-term consequence to the weekend romp between Lt Caitlin Pike and Lt Harmon Rabb Jr at that motel back in the summer of 1996? What is the responsible way to deal with an unexpected aftermath?

**A/N – link to Canon Episodes:** "Touch and Go" (S06Ep10) first broadcast 09-Jan-2001. A "post-canon" timeline puts this into "JAG Season 21…" (solely for those who want to count!).

**A/N: Publication date: 30-12-2019:** Happy New Year to all my readers. **With my wonderful beta "Syrae" on extended sick-leave, I am not likely to be continuing "Cigars", "Continued Commitment" nor "Damaged" before February of 2020.**

**_Mike: Scotland, UK, 30-12-2019, ready for Hogmanay_**

**Characters from FFNET – C Pike, H Rabb jr, Faith McBurney-Coleman plus OC**

**RMRG-RMRG-RMRG-RMRG**

**Ch03 – "Red Mittens and a Rose Garden – Fond memories" **

**RMRG-RMRG-RMRG-RMRG**

**Friday 3rd June 2016 – 17:31hrs ES, US Naval Academy, Annapolis MD:**

"Hello, this is retired Commander Caitlin Pike, calling for the Admiral."

Harm's yeoman responded with a warmth in her voice. "Of course, Commander; the Admiral has been awaiting your call. I'll just connect you."

There was a brief click, before Harm's voice came on the line. "Hello; Caitlin?"

"Oh yes, Harm. How lovely to hear your voice after all these years. Trisha mentioned that, once you had recovered from the surprise, you wanted to catch up with me."

"_Yeah, baby_ – to quote a comment from back in the day. Yes Caitlin, I would absolutely love to catch up with you." He chuckled: "So, we have created a beautiful potential USN officer; benefitting from your beauty and my brains, I guess." He chuckled at the private joke: now, some years after Mac's death, he could re-cycle that joke without a stab of pain at the memory.

"Yeah, I was very proud and I continue to be very proud of my daughter, Harm."

He decided to open the potential memory.

"Cait, why didn't you tell me about her when we last met at your court martial back in – what was it, '02 or '03?"

"Actually Harm it was early '01 when we last met." She sighed: "I came into your office *and* also saw you again just before I left JAG HQ, but both times you were surrounded by your 'harem' when I wanted – no, I *needed* - some complete privacy so I could tell you about our wonderful daughter. It just didn't happen."

There was a note of deep regret in her voice as she paused. He decided to lighten her mood.

"Well, Cait, let me make it clear; whatever your reasons, I am truly proud to have finally met this incredible young woman whom we made and you brought up. Also, be in no doubt that I would love to meet up once more with her mother."

He slipped back into the natural, respectful "Harmon Rabb reticence" as he continued. "Of course, that would be dependent upon *you* also being interested?"

Cait giggled down the phone line. "Harm, do you seriously think that I would merely call you and then hang up? To be clear, I would *very* much want to catch up with you – and as soon as possible." She sighed: "Let's face it, I have been anticipating a reunion with my daughter's father for the past 15 years."

"OK then Cait, when and where would you like to meet up?"

"Harm, do you have any free time this coming weekend?"

"Well Cait, I have the weekend free but right now I am brain-dead, from a fortnight of interviews. So how about tomorrow for either a quiet drink or maybe dinner?"

"Let's go for dinner, because we have – basically – 20 years to catch up on and I would like you to spend some quality time with our daughter quite soon after you and I have met up again."

"OK, that's a date." Cait's heart skipped at his words, then she concentrated on his next question.

"How about I come over to you guys, Cait? Questions might be asked if a middy candidate is seen in my residence on-base at the Academy."

"Oh Harm, following the rules as ever? I guess that was one of the many things I loved about you."

It was Harm's turn to experience a skipped heart-beat.

"_Did she just say she loved me?_"

The weekend was looking up. Now, he just had one item of admin to take care of.

**RMRG-RMRG-RMRG-RMRG**

**Friday 3rd June 2016 – 17:51hrs ES, US Naval Academy, Annapolis MD:**

"Faith, have you got a minute?"

Captain Faith McBurney-Coleman, Harm's Academy XO and Administrative Chief, leaned on her desk and looked across the blotter at Harm's inquisitive face as he peered around the door of her office.

He noticed the pristine white trainers outside her personal changing room, her unbuttoned uniform jacket and the "US Navy" logo on her virginal white hooded sweatshirt on its hanger.

She smiled at his inquisitive expression, to reassure him. "Don't worry, Admiral, for once I am ahead of schedule to lead the Friday evening Parcours run".

"Ah, OK, I see; so, nothing pressing at home that a ten-minute chat would disrupt?"

"Yes of course not, Admiral; Jack is on kiddy-sitting duties tonight because I guessed that the candidate interviews would throw up some anomalies that you would need my help with. Plus I was hoping to get in a run with the students who are staying over for the weekend, as a little bit of team-building."

Harm smiled to himself: compared to the "_all-joints at 90-degrees little robot Faith Coleman_" who had defended him at the calamitous Loren Singer case back in early '03, Faith had blossomed into a card-carrying member of the human race. Meeting Jack McBurney as the opposing counsel at the Singer "Murder trial", falling for him then marrying him and producing their two daughters, had softened Faith's previous up-tight "OCD" attitude. She had been on Harm's radar since then and she had been his candidate-of-choice, by a considerable margin, when he needed a new XO following the retirement of her predecessor. Getting to know the students was a natural progression of Faith's continuing journey to humanity.

"Good anticipation, Faith - as always." Harm smiled gratefully.

She smiled, straightened up and walked around to the pair of visitor chairs in front of her desk, placing her uniform jacket over the back of her chair before sitting down and crossing her legs as she looked coolly at him.

Harm settled into the other chair, breathing out steadily before he began.

"Well, Faith, I have had an anomaly lobbed into my office in the past few hours which makes even the Loren Singer trial in '03 look like a mere ripple in the space-time continuum."

Faith looked at him with her trademark arched eyebrow. He was glad that she had been available when he was building his Academy support team after his appointment to the Academy. Both she and Jack McBurney had been able to take advantage of the transfer back east from San Diego, bringing their two children with them. She had settled perfectly into the role as his Academy XO.

"OK Admiral, what's this anomaly?"

"Faith, the sun is over the yard-arm, so it's Harm." He paused, then decided to bash straight onwards.

"Faith, one of the candidates this afternoon is – and you are the first person that I have told this – the outcome of a weekend romp some twenty years ago with a fellow JAG."

Faith kept her face straight as she processed this information. "Jeez, Harm; that is a doozy of a revelation, even for the man who machine-gunned the court-room!" She smiled: "How may I help?"

"First step: I was completely oblivious of her existence until a couple of hours ago – and, crucially, after the end of all the recruitment, validation, vetting and selection stages. Second step: I'm going to meet her mother tomorrow – for the first time since '01 – but I need to be cleaner-than-clean and so, Faith, I need you to investigate the legal status from the Academy PoV, please."

"No problem, Harm. Give me an hour to draft a position paper – and I need to let the runners know that the lead Middy will be OIC for tonight's run."

"Thanks Faith: I'll head back to my office and await your judgement."

"My pleasure Harm."

**RMRG-RMRG-RMRG-RMRG**

**Friday 3rd June 2016 – 18:49hrs ES, US Naval Academy, Annapolis MD:**

"Hello, Faith – 58 minutes elapsed. As always, I am impressed."

"Why thanks, Harm. OK. Formally – Admiral, I have conducted a quick review of the rules and you have nothing to worry about. However, in order to eliminate even the *risk* of an impression of impropriety, I shall pull together a report - in confidence with names redacted - for the next Supervisory Board meeting. This will be well before the candidate – err, your newly-discovered daughter – joins the Academy. Now, I am off to greet the runners and then I am off home."

"Thanks Faith; I appreciate your speed and thoroughness."

"Yes, well, that is why you head-hunted me for the role, wasn't it Admiral?"

"Yes of course, Captain. Have a great weekend, Faith."

**RMRG-RMRG-RMRG-RMRG**

**Saturday 4th June 2016 – 18:52hrs EST, Room 309, The Maryland Hotel, Annapolis MD:**

"Mom, you look lovely; go knock his socks off."

"Well Trisha, I guess that it *would* be payback for him blowing my mittens off some 20 years ago."

"Oh Mom, go on and have fun."

"Thanks darling."

She looked at Trisha, worry in her eyes.

"Baby girl, are you still sure about this?"

Trisha strode across to her mother. Because she was breaking in a new pair of red stilettoes, she actually looked down into Caitlin's eyes despite Caitlin's heels. She gently gripped her mother's shoulders and kissed her, taking care not to smudge Caitlin's flawless makeup.

"Mom, I am just *so* proud that you have brought me up single-handed, achieved a very successful Naval career and then set the California legal profession on fire since you returned to the civilian world. Mom, this guy was the man who gave me life and whose child you decided to bring up and launch onto the world. I am just so wonderfully pleased that you and he are about to hook up again. I'm beyond grateful that you and he met, because otherwise I simply would not exist. Now go and have a lovely meal."

Cait nodded her thanks as Trisha released her shoulders and then she headed for the door of the hotel room.

"Mom?"

She turned back in response to Trisha's call. "Yes, honey?"

"Remember the condoms this time, hey?"

"_TRISHA!_" Despite her surprise at her daughter's frivolous suggestion, Cait was having a hard time refraining from laughing. Trisha knew that everything would be fine. She raised a hand in acknowledgement as she smiled: "I know Mom, it's a first date!"

Caitlin opened the hotel room door, smiled over her shoulder and then, shaking her head once more at her daughter's frivolity, headed down the corridor to the elevator.

Pushing the button to select the mezzanine floor where the restaurant was located, she smiled to herself.

"Condoms, indeed".

Then she frowned slightly.

"Why not? Nothing was out of bounds; she was a single woman, Harm's profile listed him as a widower. She smiled - the enigmatic Caitlin Pike smile which Harm would remember from their last meetings in 2001.

This could be an interesting evening!

She pushed the button to call the elevator.

**RMRG-RMRG-RMRG-RMRG**

**Saturday 4th June 2016 – 18:59hrs EST, Mezzanine reception floor, The Maryland Hotel, Annapolis MD:**

The elevator doors opened and she stepped, with just a moment of hesitation, out into the foyer of the hotel. She looked to her left, then to her right.

She couldn't miss him! He was there, rising from an armchair with a big, goofy, Harmon Rabb smile plastered across his face.

They met in the middle of the foyer, linking hands as they lined up to move into a hug.

"Hey Caitlin."

"Hey Harm. Looking good, Admiral."

"Back at you, Pike."

Their bodies melded into each other. As he wrapped his arms around Kate's torso beneath her lightweight jacket, Harm's arms felt unexpected resistance beneath her dress.

She looked up into his eyes, a wicked smile playing on her lips.

"Well, the one surviving mitten would be a tad obvious, so I thought a subtle bit of foundation clothing might bring back happy memories from '96."

He swallowed. Cait's style of dress was bringing back all sorts of happy memories. Holding hands, they walked slowly across to a pair of armchairs. Cait sat down, poised and elegant, with her heels tucked away under the chair as she smoothed out imaginary creases in her skirt.

She leaned across and took his hand. Looking down, he saw elegant nails and hands marked only by an Academy ring on the ring finger of her right hand. He looked up into her eyes and saw a question forming.

"So Harm, what do you think of our lovely daughter?"

**RMRG-RMRG-RMRG-RMRG**

**End of Ch03 – "fond memories"**


	4. Moving forward confidently

**Red Mittens and a Rose Garden – the Trisha Pike Chronicles, **

**Chapter 04 - "Moving forward confidently" **

**A/N: AU. **What if there was a long-term consequence to the weekend romp between Lt Caitlin Pike and Lt Harmon Rabb Jr at that motel back in the summer of 1996? What is the responsible way to deal with an unexpected aftermath?

**A/N – link to Canon Episodes:** "One big boat" (S10Ep06, broadcast 12-Nov-2004); "Touch and Go" (S06Ep10) first broadcast 09-Jan-2001. A "post-canon" timeline puts this into "JAG Season 21…" (solely for those who want to count!).

**A/N: Publication date: 14-01-2020:** Happy New Year to all my readers. **With my wonderful beta "Syrae" on extended sick-leave, I am not likely to be publishing further chapters of my three stories – and continuing "Cigars", "Continued Commitment" nor "Damaged" - before February of 2020.**

**_Mike, UK, 14-01-2020_**

**Characters from FFNET – C Pike, H Rabb jr, Faith McBurney-Coleman plus OC**

**RMRG-RMRG-RMRG-RMRG**

**Ch04– "Red Mittens and a Rose Garden – Moving forward confidently" **

**RMRG-RMRG-RMRG-RMRG**

**Saturday 4th June 2016 – 19:01hrs EST, Mezzanine reception floor, The Maryland Hotel, Annapolis MD:**

Caitlin leaned across and took his hand. Looking down, he saw elegant nails and hands marked only by an Academy ring on the ring finger of her right hand. He looked up into her eyes and saw a question forming.

"_So Harm, what do you think of our lovely daughter?_"

**RMRG-RMRG-RMRG-RMRG**

**Saturday 4th June 2016 – 19:05hrs EST, the Garden Restaurant, the Maryland Hotel, Annapolis MD:**

The conversation had flowed easily – and non-stop – since they first met up again. Harm was fascinated by Caitlin's lithe body, her fluid motion and easy smile. He realised that, at their last meeting some 15 years earlier, Caitlin had been stressed beyond belief because of the Hollenbeck case. They both looked towards the restaurant.

"Harm, I checked earlier and the restaurant has a good set of veggie options. Would that work for you?"

"Oh yes, absolutely Cait. The temperatures outside – even now in the early evening – were quite high, so I'm all for enjoying the air-con and staying cool."

They strolled into the restaurant, where Caitlin confirmed her reservation in the name of Pike. They were quickly shown to their seats, Caitlin hanging back to admire Harm's suit-clad six. _"Looks like he's staying fit"_, she told herself. They seated themselves and the waiter handed them each a menu.

"Wine, Caitlin?"

"Yes please Harm – white for preference. I only have to stagger back upstairs at the end of the evening." She opened the main menu as he looked around for the wine waiter.

"Well, that should work well, because I want to be sure that you get back safely to your suite."

A waiter brought across two glasses of iced water, allowing Harm to place the order for wine. They continued perusing the menu. Caitlin's tummy rumbled gently. She looked across at Harm, embarrassment written across her face.

"Sorry Harm, but I didn't want the corset to get in the way of my meal."

He smiled and nodded. "You don't need to lace up for me, Caitlin; I have happy memories of '96, plus I recall the last time I hugged you after the court-martial, I could feel near-enough every one of your ribs."

Caitlin looked guiltily at him as she replied.

"Well, the run-up to that case had been stressful and I was already below my fighting weight – I had over compensated after weaning Trisha a couple of years earlier. She would have been about four at that point"

She looked down at her trim figure. "Plus, I wanted to bring back some happy memories tonight for our re-union evening – whatever may befall us." She smiled, taking a sip of her wine as she picked up the menu once more.

Harm smiled and relaxed. This was going to be fine.

They continued exchanging information as they enjoyed the superb fish course.

"Well, Caitlin, I am still running each day – although a little less than I did, but I have taken up road cycling. It enables me to get out and about, plus I work my way through the Academy every morning and every evening, so that the staff and middies can see me and come talk, if they have anything worrying them."

He smiled. "It actually works very well as a means of ensuring communication."

Caitlin nodded. "Yes, from my research everyone believes that the USNA has become a little more open in the past few years. Just as rigorous in terms of academic qualifications and standards, but a little more human (or humane, maybe). I have no fears about entrusting the Academy with my – excuse me, our – daughter." She smiled, slightly sheepishly, at her slip of the tongue. This was her daughter's father she was dining with - and she was encouraging the opening of communications.

Harm picked up on her point. "Well, we still have similar attrition rates to when you and I graduated here – a standard proportion of each year's intake do not stay the course with us. But I am *so* proud that our daughter has chosen to come to the Academy."

Caitlin reached across and took his hand. "Trisha was always interested in the USN – I guess because it had been my chosen career until I retired – but she really came alive once she and I had the '_Mom, who's my Daddy?_' conversation when she entered her teens. After that, when I saw your promotion to Superintendent, it really was a no-brainer. My daughter is coming to a great college."

Harm nodded. "The US Service Academies are accredited four-year universities where graduates will receive Bachelor of Science degrees in their chosen field. Although the Navy is evolving, back in the day a typical graduating class would mean that 25% went into Surface Warfare, 20% into Aviation, 20% into the Marine Corps (the Corps doesn't have its own academy), and 15% into Submarines. The remaining 20% would be split up into Special Warfare (Navy SEaLs) and various other billets such as JAG or the Medical Corps. Females typically comprise 15% of a graduating class, but usually score near the top academically, and far out of proportion to their numbers."

"Physical fitness is extremely important at the Academy, so our Trisha will have to participate in a sport, or even two. There are physical standards which must be met and failure to do so means that you won't graduate...period."

Caitlin smiled as she relaxed. "Well Harm, our daughter has a prodigious swing, so she has played - as I played - baseball during her High School time in Japan, so she is already in good shape. She expects to get involved – if needed – with 'strength camp', which will concentrate on building her upper body strength."

Harm nodded. "As you know, there are no holdovers for another year- if you don't meet the standards, you're OUT. However, I don't expect that our daughter will be in the failure section. Once upon a time, if you didn't graduate with your class you had to pay the government back for your time spent at the Academy. That has been modified over the past decade, but if she was to "bilge out", she will still owe Uncle Sam a pile of money."

"Harm, I don't think that we need to worry about that. Anyhow, Trisha also wants to get involved with the sailing club."

"Sounds good. I also think that things have improved since I had to investigate a mishap on one of the Academy's yachts back in the day. Good for her – a life on the ocean wave for our daughter."

"OK, shall we order?"

He nodded, causing Caitlin to summon the waiter. Shrimp starters were followed by Atlantic Sea-bass with trimmings – perfectly complementing the crisp dry wine.

Harm relaxed in his chair and fixed Caitlin with a loving eye.

"So, Miss Pike, tell me about my secret daughter. It was a heck of a curve-ball in my 53rd year."

The enigmatic Caitlin Pike smile emerged, as she reached into her handbag and produced a well-worn (and obviously much-loved) photograph wallet.

"Pregnancy then through birth and onwards through the first 18 years to womanhood, Harm."

"And you never thought – or sought – to bring her a sister?"

That smile again. "Harm, the birth was – how can I say this – 'challenging' and..." She paused before continuing. "God, I can't believe that I'm saying this: I really missed having you there with me to welcome our child into the world. My Uncle Jethro stood in and he was a tower of strength. After the birth - believe it or not – I spent the next 13 years as a solo girl until about five years back, when I met a wonderful lieutenant-colonel of Marines."

Harm raised an eyebrow and Caitlin continued. "Well, we steadily got closer – I met his daughters and things were just peachy – but then, just as we were starting to look at furniture patterns he was contacted through Facebook by his old high-school sweetheart and that was me gone!"

She shrugged. "So I licked my wounds and decided that I wasn't in a rush, so I concentrated on raising Trisha and steering her to wherever she wanted to attend for academic extensions. I was pretty pleased, I must tell you, that she chose here – her Mom and Dad's old _alma mater_."

She looked at him, noticing a question forming in his eyes. She raised an enigmatic eyebrow.

"Sorry Caitlin; I was just trying to remember: I've told you that I am 52 (I'll be 53 in October) but…"

"Harm. I am 47. Plenty of life yet in the mother of your children…."

Harm spluttered as he sipped his wine. Cait sipped her wine and merely smiled demurely as he digested her words.

Harm got his breathing under control and looked sharply at her.

"_Children?_ Would you…?".

She smiled. "Harm, it would take one hell of a man to persuade me to become a mother again in my late 40's, but I have achieved everything I want to and I can afford to step back from my practice. Remember, although I would never describe our daughter in such terms (other than with you), she *was* an accident when two consenting adults got carried away one weekend 20 years ago. However, before we even go there, I need to delve a little deeper."

She took his hand and stared deep into his eyes.

"Harm, please tell me about Mac; I was *so* sorry to read that she had died."

He nodded, then began the story of his lost love.

**RMRG-RMRG-RMRG-RMRG**

**End of Ch04 – "moving forward confidently"**


	5. Newly-minted middy

**Red Mittens and a Rose Garden – the Trisha Pike Chronicles, **

**Chapter 05 - "Newly-minted middy" **

**A/N: AU. **What if there was a long-term consequence to the weekend romp between Lt Caitlin Pike and Lt Harmon Rabb Jr at that motel back in the summer of 1996? What is the responsible way to deal with an unexpected aftermath?

**A/N – link to Canon Episodes:** "One big boat" (S10Ep06, broadcast 12-Nov-2004); "Touch and Go" (S06Ep10) first broadcast 09-Jan-2001. "Skeleton Crew" (S01Ep22 not aired until 1998/99). A "post-canon" timeline puts this into "_JAG Season 21_…" (solely for those who want to count!).

**A/N –****I pay tribute to "MTC29" for his advice and knowledge regarding Academy life and principles.**

**A/N: Publication date: 01-02-2020:** **With my wonderful beta "Syrae" returning from extended sick-leave, I am pleased to predict publishing new chapters of my three stories – continuing with "Continued Commitment", "Cigars" and "Damaged" – during February of 2020.**

_**Mike, UK, 01-Feb-2020**_

**Characters from FFNET – C Pike, H Rabb jr, Faith McBurney-Coleman plus OC**

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**Ch05– "Red Mittens and a Rose Garden – newly-minted middy" **

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**Saturday 4th June 2016 – 20:57hrs EST, the Garden Restaurant, the Maryland Hotel, Annapolis MD:**

Cait smiled as she began. "Harm, it would take one hell of a man to persuade me to become a mother again in my late 40's, but I have achieved everything I want to and I can afford to step back from my practice. Remember, although I would never describe our daughter in such terms (other than with you), she *was* an accident when two consenting adults got carried away one weekend 20 years ago. However, before we even go there, I need to delve a little deeper."

She took his hand and stared deep into his eyes.

"Harm, please tell me about Mac; I was *so* sorry to read that she had died."

He nodded, then began the story of his lost love.

"You know Cait, in a way I am responsible for Mac's death. I let us dance for too long around our relationships, before we finally committed when we were looking at heading off to postings which were some 11 time-zones apart."

He sighed. "We'd met – as you probably realised – in very early 1997 and I'd finally gotten Diane Schonke (my Academy girlfriend who was murdered but was the spitting image of Mac) out of my system by '98. She and I then wasted the next seven years dancing around our emotions, right up until the day that we packed up our apartments in 2005."

"So what gave you the nudge to get it together?" she asked gently.

"Facing a timescale of hours remaining ahead of the leaving party. I proposed, in my apartment, across a pile of packing boxes." He smiled: "Even then she didn't quite make her mind up until we said farewell at Dulles the next day. She thought hard, then passed up the opportunity in RLSO San Diego, reserved her commission and flew across to London to join me. We took a week off later in the summer of '05, flew my old bi-plane _'Sarah'_ across the country to California and had a pre-honeymoon before we got married in La Jolla."

"Then back to London, I presume?" prompted Cait.

He nodded. "Yep, back to the UK's capital city and the Embassy, ahead of the FJE move to Naples later that autumn. Mac knew that her endometriosis was going to be a severe impediment to any pregnancy, but was able to get into a good treatment programme at a hospital in London early in '06. We had everything lined up to try for a baby later in '06 and – after a few months – we were delighted when she fell pregnant."

He reached for his wine and took a sip.

"She was fine for the first two months but miscarried after nine weeks. We gave it six months, checked the endometriosis and tried again in the spring of '07, when she miscarried at nine weeks. And so on, and so on, for the next couple of years, miscarrying at 11-13 weeks just before we dared hope to tell the family. God, Caitlin, we tried so hard – Mac could not have done more."

Cait leaned forward, sensing that the final phase of the story was nearing. "So how did everything end, Harm?"

"She died in the summer of 2011, on a lovely sunny day just over five years ago. I had been posted back to the Pentagon in 2009 to work on International Maritime law and we'd settled in Falls Church. Mac had joined a civilian law firm and was working well. We'd headed out to the coast for a day as she headed into her sixth month and we'd settled into the sand dunes for the day. Just after lunch, we fell asleep; she nudged me awake and told me that she wasn't feeling comfortable. Then I noticed that she was bleeding. I had to run inland to find a cellphone signal to call for an ambulance. There was a bit of a delay in locating exactly where we were, but in the end it would not have mattered. Mac had haemorrhaged (the autopsy suspected that the endometriosis treatment had obviously weakened a part of her womb) and she simply bled out. Unfortunately she had passed out from blood loss before I could get back to her and so I found her in the sand dunes; she had gone, along with our daughter."

Caitlin continued to caress his hand and he looked into her eyes, nodding his appreciation before he continued his story.

"So, I kept their ashes for a while, then I scattered Mac and our baby on Red Rock Mesa with her Uncle Matt in attendance. It was a judgement call, between the White House Rose Garden and Arizona. Both were places that were dear to us, from our first 48 hours of working together back in early '97. Uncle Matt was very helpful in getting the cave at Red Rock Mesa cleared so that we could cast her into the winds from the top of the tower; she's settled there now with our baby girl, amongst the ichnites and the dinosaur tracks and the fossils. "

He smiled. "Somehow, it just seemed the best place to leave her – and I can always join her when my time comes."

Caitlin shivered. "Wow: planning ahead?"

"Oh, don't get me wrong, Caitlin. I envisage that event being 30 – maybe more – years in the future."

He took her hand. "But, if possible, I would like to spend at least some of those years with someone alongside me. I am surrounded by youth, enthusiasm and energy. The future of the Navy's leadership is right here, in my Academy, growing and learning every day – and there is nowhere that I would rather be. I am truly making a difference."

He sighed: "But the bed is getting very lonely after five years."

Caitlin turned his hand over, playing with the underside of his wedding band. He was opening up to her in a way that the old "_stone-face Harm_" would never have opened up. She realised that he was also re-awakening feelings in her which had lain dormant (and which she had ruthlessly stamped down on) for two decades.

These were feelings which, with the wrong man, would have left her wide open to being taken advantage of. Yet, in this place, at this time and – above all else – with this man, she felt nothing but utter contentment.

Caitlin Pike made up her mind. It was time to re-kindle a fire which had smouldered for twenty-years.

"Harm, I think that it is time we took this upstairs – agreed?"

"Yes ma'am."

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**Sunday 5th June 2016 – 08:57hrs EST, Room 3-009, the Maryland Hotel, Annapolis MD:**

Cait stretched, cat-like, then rolled over to kiss the sleeping man lying alongside her in the wrecked bed. Their night together had been active, passionate and they had made love past midnight on the Saturday night.

Wrapping a silk gown around her naked body, she headed to the bathroom to get started on her morning routine. Afterwards, she brushed her teeth and then filled the reservoir of the coffee maker.

Sitting down as the coffee brewed, she looked lovingly at Harm's sleeping face as the sunlight began to strike into the room. She was reminded of the old Rod Stewart song about "_the morning sun shining in your face_" showing your age. However, she liked - no, she realised; she loved - what she saw. The grey hairs sprinkled through his hair, along with the wrinkles and laughter lines around his eyes, gave him a vulnerability which she felt honoured to have had him sleep trustingly alongside her after a night of passion.

This man was simply gorgeous.

She suddenly realised that her observation of Harm was being returned by a pair of sea-green eyes which stared back at her, from a face which wore an amused smile.

"Morning, lovely lady."

"Hello, lovely man. Coffee? It's just brewed."

"Hmm, yes please." He rolled over and stood up, following Caitlin's path to the bathroom.

He was soon back, gratefully accepting the cup of coffee from her. He sipped a few times, then looked at her.

"OK, what would you like to do today, Ms Pike?"

She pursed her lips in thought, weighing up her options as she leaned against the edge of the bed. Harm's hand began a slow, tantalising yet stimulating crawl up the back of her knee, up onto her thigh and then...

"Well, Admiral, after breakfast I would appreciate a escorted tour of your empire; I haven't been back here since I graduated. It isn't through any antipathy towards the place, but I just haven't felt the need. Plus, until I took the job in DC I was rarely in the region."

She leaned in to kiss him again, parting her knees then closing them to trap his roaming hand.

"But now, it looks like – apart from the job – I have another reason for settling close to the Academy. Would you endorse my rationale, dear Admiral?"

"Oh yes, Caitlin - that sounds like a plan. Do we need to tell our daughter about our plans for the day?" He was looking across the suite. at the second wardrobe in the suite, which clearly contained clothing for a younger woman than the statuesque brunette with whom he had just spent a fulfilling night

"Not really Harm, she is away with friends in DC and doesn't expect to be back until this evening. I could call her up whilst you are in the shower, if that sounds like a good idea?"

He took her hand gently, drawing her close to him, then whispered in her ear: "I have something far more useful to suggest than showering separately."

She smiled conspiratorially. "Well Admiral, I didn't want to appear presumptuous - but I thought you would never ask."

"Why Ms Pike; I only needed to revise my sense of timing. Come on madam, into that shower. Breakfast and a tour of the Academy can wait a little longer."

Some considerable time would pass before two clean and steamy bodies would venture back out of the bathroom into the bedroom area. Somehow, their appetite for breakfast had been sharpened.

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**Thursday 30th June 2016 – 12:00noon: **

**Main Parade Ground; US Naval Academy, Annapolis MD:**

Harm stood on the saluting base to welcome the new intake to his Academy. By now, he had stamped his personality on the facilities, courses and pastoral care processes of the Academy.

In his welcoming speech, he alluded to the joy which had marked his time in the Academy (as he put it "_long before any of you were born!")_. As the resulting laughter echoed around the ground, he related the story of how he had formed life-long friendships with Sturgis Turner, Jack Keeter and – of course – Diane Schonke.

"Apart from your section chiefs and your instructors, my door is always open. However I would always encourage you to use your chain of command in the first place, if anything is worrying you. Welcome to your Academy; I hope for great things from each and every one of you. You are the cream of the crop and you are the future of the United States Navy."

Trisha had attended one of the Summer seminars – these are week-long introductions to life in the Academy, enabling all incoming newly-appointed midshipmen to learn about life in the Academy.

"Induction Day", which is the official start of a new graduating class, is always the last Thursday in June. This is the start of what is called "Plebe Summer"; seven weeks which will introduce students to the Navy basics and life at the Academy. Most plebes consider the "Plebe Summer" to be a pivotal experience which tests physical, mental, and moral strength in preparation for life in the Brigade (class) which normally comprises around 4,500 students.

Trisha also worked hard on the strength camp to build her upper body strength. This meant that Trisha was ready, fit and eager when the faculty returned in the middle of August, and academic classes resumed the following week. Behaving as an "_officer and a gentleman_" (ignoring the obvious modern equality of gender considerations) is instilled from day one, and honour is pivotal in the daily lives of midshipmen.

The other activities enable a well-rounded human being to emerge from their time at the Academy. Sports and clubs are a major part of a midshipman's time at the Academy.

In addition to sports, there are clubs ranging from the Glee club to a Dance Club, and everything in between. Because of Trisha's background in playing baseball, she naturally migrated to the softball team. She also signed up for the Sailing Club.

Her better-than-average hand-eye co-ordination also marked her out for a shot at the women's basketball team, where her height was a distinct advantage, since she is quite tall. The visual and mental acuity also brought her to the attention of several instructors, as the USN began the process of identifying, marking and encouraging future senior leaders for fast-tracking from amongst the ranks of midshipmen. It may seem, to the uninitiated, a brutal principle and yet it has produced exemplary leaders over the decades.

In the finest traditions of her (secret and undisclosed) father's time at the Academy, she had formed a strong bond of friendship with three other middies. Their unofficial title was "the four horsemen" – in part because they all enjoyed horse-riding, but more realistically because "musketeers" seemed a little repetitive of a previous generation's name for a group of midshipmen.

Anna Svenson, Tom McGee and Anthony Lee formed a circle of friendship which would embrace and sustain Trisha Pike in the years ahead – just as her father's circle of friends had supported *him* over the decades. She knew that her mom had also established a similar circle during her time at USNA.

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**Thursday 22****nd**** December 2016 – 15:30hrs EDT: **

**Penthouse suite, 210 E Fairfax St, Falls Church, VA 22046:**

"Hey Dad, did you actually measure this Christmas tree?"

Three people were sweating and struggling to wrangle a large Christmas tree over the threshold. Trisha and Cait had both discarded their high-heeled ankle boots to get a better purchase on the carpet of the top-floor apartment after the "fun" of getting into the elevator.

All of a sudden, Christmas had arrived and Trisha was spending her downtime at her mother's rented apartment in DC. The three of them had driven out to buy the Christmas tree for the apartment.

Harm had assisted Caitlin – at her invitation – in choosing the apartment during the summer. The apartment would be her home-from-home during her time working in the DC area. She had subsequently mothballed her California home (which was, fortuitously, close enough to La Jolla for Harm's parents to keep an eye on it).

Harm had – at Caitlin's invitation, encouragement and, latterly, insistence – been spending ever-increasing amounts of time at Caitlin's as their relationship grew and blossomed. DC was now the centre of Caitlin's life, enabling her to work whilst being within reach for Trisha and the Academy (but not *too* close by, enabling her daughter to live her life and thrive).

Trisha was very encouraging of this new relationship for her mom. She could see how Caitlin had grown out of her shell; the retired USN Commander had a spring in her step every morning, especially when Harm had stayed over.

Harm had to observe the protocol relating to his Academy quarters – even the Superintendent has to follow the rules – but he was forming a cunning plan to deal with this restriction.

For now, he was simply delighted to be enjoying a quiet family Christmas with two women who had become very dear to him in the course of 2016.

The upcoming year of 2017 would bring developments in his life which could not have been predicted, affecting him along with Caitlin and Trisha.

Life was good.

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**End of Ch05 – "newly-minted middy"**


	6. A first-year mis-adventure

**Red Mittens and a Rose Garden – the Trisha Pike Chronicles, **

**Chapter 06 - "A first-year mis-adventure" **

**A/N: AU. **What if there was a long-term consequence to the weekend romp between Lt Caitlin Pike and Lt Harmon Rabb Jr at that motel back in the summer of 1996? What is the responsible way to deal with an unexpected aftermath?

**A/N – link to Canon Episodes:** Pilot (S01Ep01/02, 1995). A "post-canon" timeline puts this into "_JAG Season 21_…" (solely for those who want to count!).

**A/N: Publication date: 20-02-2020: I shall resume the "Cigars" story by early March. **

**Notes** **_Mike, UK, 20-Feb-2020_**

**Characters from FFNET – C Pike, H Rabb jr, Faith McBurney-Coleman plus OC**

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**Ch06– "A first-year mis-adventure" **

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**Saturday 7th January 2017, 19:57hrs EDT**

**Penthouse suite, 210 E Fairfax St, Falls Church, VA 22046:**

"Trisha, do you think that he would keep the confidence?"

The Rabb-Pike New Year 2017 skiing trip to Vermont had been enjoyable, active and a great bonding experience for Harm with Caitlin and Trisha.

They had been able to "just be themselves" and to build the basis of a strong family unit – although the third night had been interrupted when Trisha bumped into another midshipman from USNA in their hotel. He had then seen the three of them again at breakfast on the final day, causing Trisha to ask him to keep the confidence. This, he had readily agreed to, not least because his father was also in the hotel "entertaining" his PA in an unofficial capacity which the religiously-committed company owner would not have countenanced!.

"Well Dad, I did ask him on his honour, so the chances are that he will go along with the request. But there are three more years to go and I reckon that, at some point, the secret will get out." She linked arms with her father. "So, at some stage you are going to have to be able to profess your love for – and pride in – your daughter at the USNA." She smiled, enjoying the torment which Harm (along with Caitlin) was going though. He acknowledged her smile, taking "his women" by the hand and pulling them close to him as they stood in the hallway of Caitlin's penthouse apartment.

"Ladies, I am *always* proud, of *both* of you. Never ever doubt that fact of my life."

He gently kissed each woman on the cheek. Caitlin and Trisha smiled, conspiratorially, at each other before Caitlin continued the questioning.

"Well Harm, there must have been more than one Admiral's daughter (or even Superintendent's child) coming through the Academy since it first opened its doors?"

He nodded: "Yes, Faith carried out a comprehensive set of due diligence and we are - quite definitely - neither the first nor the only family to encounter this situation."

**He felt them relax into him – but this stiffened his resolve that he should be "regularising" his relationship with Caitlin. Heck, they were spending so much time together (often with Trisha in residence as well), that the only thing missing was a ring on Caitlin's finger.** **He realised that *that* deficiency was something which he could complete.**

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**Third week of January – start of Spring Term 2017**

**Main Assembly Hall, US Navy Academy, Annapolis MD:**

"Congratulations, Midshipman Pike, Midshipman Adamson and Midshipman Wilkinson – you are our three Students of the Term, based upon commitment, sporting achievements and – the greatest proportion of points – the winter examinations at the end of last term. Congratulations once more."

Admiral Rabb congratulated the top three middies. Cait smiled as Trisha disappeared into the group of Anna Svenson, Tom McGee and Anthony Lee. She was delighted to see that her daughter had the circle of friends whom she could rely upon as she settled into Academy life – once more there was a supportive grouping of students to help one another deal with the pressures of Academy life.

The first two trips out into the bay with the USNA sailing club had gone well. Trisha had developed a deep attachment to the sea since childhood and she was likely to move into Surface Warfare. No-one knew about her paternal parent, so her expressed preference caused no ripples of doubt or confusion.

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**Tuesday 14****th**** February 2017, 18:54hrs EDT**

**Penthouse suite, 210 E Fairfax St, Falls Church, VA 22046:**

"All set, darling?"

Harm had pocketed the small box from his briefcase as he walked from the bedroom into the hallway, where Caitlin was zipping up her long winter boots and pulling on her long coat.

Trisha was signed up for a winter survival exercise over on Fort Bragg during the middle week of February. Her long-planned absence had given Harm an idea. As Trisha's C-17 had lifted off for Pope Field, Harm had set off to Caitlin's apartment to collect her for their Valentine's evening meal.

She smiled at him; "Yep, all set Admiral. So, where are you taking me?"

For a nanosecond, the response "_up against that wall over there, with your mittens, corset and boots on_" played on Harm's lips, before he responded with "Maison Verde where the menu meets all preferences my darling."

"Good, because I am famished from lunchtime" she replied. "I hope that our baby is enjoying herself in the wilderness."

"Caitlin, I am sure that she is, my darling" responded Harm as he picked up her car keys and, after receiving Caitlin's nodded consent to his raised eyebrow, he led the way to the underground parking lot and unlocked her car, opening the front passenger door for Caitlin to seat herself.

The restaurant was perfect and they both enjoyed their chosen meals and the wines which the sommelier had selected to accompany each dish. The conversation had – as always – flowed easily and the two parents of Trisha Pike were, by now, entirely comfortable with each other. This gave Harm the confidence which he needed to make his next move. He took her hands, gently rubbing his thumb across the backs of her knuckles.

As always, Caitlin's body responded to her master's touch; she could feel herself moistening. Their sex life had been fully reinstated since the autumn and she was attuned to his touch, his scent and his little moves.

"Caitlin Pike, mother of our child: I have known you since we flew out to that carrier back in the summer of '95. We created our lovely daughter some 20 years ago and I was truly delighted to meet up with you again last summer."

Caitlin nodded, letting him form his words and give voice to his thoughts without interruption from her.

"As you know, I have been alone since my darling Mac passed away in 2011. I have felt, particularly in the time since we became re-acquainted, that you and I should move into a more-permanent relationship." He looked at Caitlin, eyebrow raised questioningly. She smiled warmly and nodded, returning his touch.

"So, I was wondering…" he slipped out of his chair and knelt down on one knee at her feet alongside the table. "...Caitlin Pike, mother of our daughter; could you consider doing me the very great honour of consenting to become my wife?"

With tears in her eyes, Caitlin could only nod dumbly as she absorbed the implications of what Harm was asking. Give up (a part of) her independence; become "The Admiral's Wife"; join with him at formal and informal events; maybe (eventually) move closer to DC if he went to the Pentagon. Perhaps, she would have to reveal their daughter's parentage after a very successful (so far) concealment exercise at the Academy.

All these thoughts took her about seven nanoseconds before her customary warm smile filled her face and she leaned in to kiss her fiancé.

"Oh yes, my darling Harm: more than anything else in this world; I would be delighted to do you the honour. Where do I sign?"

"Well, for now, we start with this ring," he replied as he slipped the solitaire diamond onto her finger.

Caitlin Pike suddenly became very left-handed!

The news of their engagement was received with delight by Trisha when she returned from Fort Bragg and telephoned home. After the survival exercise, she was preparing for the spring break in March. The "four horsemen" had planned a trip across to Orlando, for a four-day break at Disney World. They all enjoyed the break, returning refreshed and re-invigorated for the final three months of their first academic year.

In the excitement of their week away, Trisha kept from her three best friends the secret of the question which Harm had asked of her mother on Valentine's day. When the time came to entrust her friends with the knowledge of her father's identity, she knew that Anna Svenson, Tom McGee and Anthony Lee had formed an unbreakable circle of friendship and loyalty. The circle would embrace and sustain Trisha Pike in the years ahead – just as her father's circle of friends had supported *him* over the decades. She knew that her mom had also established a similar circle during her time at USNA.

**RMRG-RMRG-RMRG-RMRG**

**Monday 22nd May 2017 – 13:30hrs EDT: **

**Herndon Monument, US Naval Academy, Annapolis MD:**

At the end of their first/plebe year, midshipmen climb The Herndon Monument, which is a 21 foot (6.4m) tall obelisk which first class (senior class) midshipmen coat with about 50 pounds of vegetable shortening, lard, cooking oil, butter - or a mixture. In a test of teamwork, the plebes build a human pyramid so that one midshipman can reach the top to remove an enlisted cap (which first class midshipmen have installed) at the top of the monument and replace it with an upperclassman's (officers) hat. No shoes are allowed to be worn; participants remove their shoes, which are then donated to charity. Shirts for males are optional and are often removed and then wrapped around the monument as a means of gaining traction during the climb.

The class of 2020 was ready to tackle the challenge. The record for the climb is 20 minutes, but it often takes as much as four hours, with two hours being average. First class midshipmen are free to squirt water onto the participants, which distracts them, and makes the grease even more slippery. In the meantime, a band plays inspiring music and a cannon is fired at 1/2 hour intervals to mark the time. Females would seem to be the logical choice to hoist onto shoulders, but because they are typically shorter, girls are often passed up for tall and slender men; but men are usually heavier which makes their climbing more difficult. Being quite tall, Trisha had been selected to lead the climb. She was the logical choice to be lifted to the top of the monument. A man Harm's size would have been one of the crew at the base of the monument and getting stepped on!

Legend has it that the person who replaces the cap will reach admiral. There is no way of knowing if this has actually occurred, but after successfully completing the Herndon climb, the freshmen are no longer called plebes.

As she reached the top of the monument after a gruelling 105-minute climb and swapped over the caps, Trisha transferred all her grip into one hand as she pulled on the shirt which had enabled her to inch up the monument. She stood tall, yodelling her success and actually looking *down* onto the cap as it sat in place on the monument, as she waved the other cap at her friends some 22 feet below...

At which point the stitching in the shirt gave way, leaving Trisha Pike in the hands of Sir Isaac Newton…

**RMRG-RMRG-RMRG-RMRG**

**Monday 22nd May 2017 – 16:23hrs EDT: **

**Emergency Treatment Centre, US Naval Academy, Annapolis MD:**

Trisha Pike – along with the five other unfortunate midshipmen who had broken her fall – lay on her gurney in the ER. Initial triage had put the two former plebes with separated shoulders into the head of the queue. Trisha had shown amazing good fortune, breaking just the radius and ulna on her left arm (being right-handed, she reckoned that she had escaped lightly), but the painkillers had kicked in and she wasn't feeling too much pain when her mom and The Admiral arrived together, to visit the wounded.

Ostensibly The Admiral was present, as Superintendent, to support all the wounded. Caitlin Pike was obviously there to support her wounded daughter specifically.

Everything was going fine until Trisha sat up on her gurney as she heard Caitlin's voice interrogating the ER staff regarding her daughter's condition.

"Hey Mom, I failed my needlepoint exam, but they've given me the good stuff".

She then looked owlishly across at Harm as he stood alongside Caitlin, then she groggily uttered the immortal words: "_Hey Dad, I think I've broken another record for the fastest female_" – before she passed out.

A sharp intake of breath from the Chief Surgeon was echoed by her three other "Horsemen" present in the ER.

The secret was out!

**RMRG-RMRG-RMRG-RMRG**

**End of Ch06 – "a first-year mis-adventure" **


	7. Top student, into second year

**Red Mittens and a Rose Garden – the Trisha Pike Chronicles, **

**Chapter 07 - "Top student, into second year" **

**A/N: AU. **What if there was a long-term consequence to the weekend romp between Lt Caitlin Pike and Lt Harmon Rabb Jr at that motel back in the summer of 1996? What is the responsible way to deal with an unexpected aftermath?

**A/N – link to Canon Episodes:** Pilot (S01Ep01/02, 1995). A "post-canon" timeline puts this into "_JAG Season 21_…" (solely for those who want to count!).

**A/N: Publication date: 03-03-2020: ****Real life has intruded, in February 2020, resulting in an extended delay in getting back to my ****"Cigars" story about Harm and Teresa. They will return!**

**Notes** **_Mike, UK, 03-Mar-2020_**

**Characters from FFNET – C Pike, H Rabb jr, Faith McBurney-Coleman plus OC**

**RMRG-RMRG-RMRG-RMRG**

**Ch07– "Top student, into second year" **

**RMRG-RMRG-RMRG-RMRG**

**Monday 22nd May 2017 – 16:23hrs EDT: **

**Emergency Treatment Centre, US Naval Academy, Annapolis MD:**

Trisha Pike lay on her gurney in the ER – looking across at the five other unfortunate midshipmen who had broken her fall. Initial triage had put the two former plebes with separated shoulders into the head of the queue.

With the completion of the Herndon Monument climb, they were now no longer "plebes". The beginning of their second year in the Academy (perversely the Academy counted down from "fourth-year" entrants to "firsties" in the final year before they graduated and moved out to serve) lay ahead of them.

Trisha had shown amazing good fortune, breaking just the radius and ulna on her left arm (being right-handed, she reckoned that she had escaped lightly), but the painkillers had kicked in and she wasn't feeling too much pain when her mom and The Admiral arrived together, to visit the wounded.

Ostensibly Admiral Rabb was present, as Superintendent, to support all the wounded. Caitlin Pike was obviously there to support her wounded daughter specifically.

Everything was going fine until Trisha sat up on her gurney as she heard Caitlin's voice interrogating the ER staff regarding her daughter's condition.

"Hey Mom, I failed my needlepoint exam, but they've given me the good stuff".

She then looked owlishly across at Harm as he stood alongside Caitlin, then she groggily uttered the immortal words: "_Hey Dad, I think I've broken another record for the fastest female_" – before she passed out.

A sharp intake of breath from the Chief Surgeon was echoed by her three other "Horsemen" present in the ER.

The secret was out!

**RMRG-RMRG-RMRG-RMRG**

**Monday 22nd May 2017 – 16:45hrs EDT: **

**Emergency Treatment Centre, US Naval Academy, Annapolis MD:**

Tony Lee and Anna Svenson were the first to shake off their surprise. Trisha Pike looked up at her father and uttered one single word:

"oops!"

Harm shook his head, despite a warm smile to reassure his daughter.

"Yes, Trisha – 'oops' is a good start."

He smiled at the four witnesses as he formed what he was going to say.

"OK, Miss Svenson, Mr Lee and Mr McGee – along with Doctor Wilkinson – you have made a discovery which was – until ten minutes ago - only in the knowledge base of the Academy's Supervisory Board."

He reached out to Trisha, embracing her one good hand. She looked up sheepishly at him. "Sorry Dad, blame the painkillers."

"Hmm, let us think about that one, Trisha." Harm wasn't ready to let his daughter off the hook.

"You will gather that we had kept Trisha's identity sequestered, to enable her to develop as a normal middy."

Tony Lee snorted. "Normal? Heck Admiral, she's on track for the top performer award on current progress. Plus, because she placed the cap on the Herndon Monument, it may well be that she will make Admiral (if the story is true)".

The other three horsemen gathered around Trisha. She reached out her one good hand, upon which Tom, Anna and Tony placed a supportive hand.

"_All for one and one for all_" they chorused. They looked at each other; Anna raised her eyebrow – Tony and Tom both nodded. They turned to face Harm, smiling at Trisha.

"Admiral, despite the surprise, we can see why a measure of secrecy would make sense; she'd never achieve a fair grade again, either through good influence or bad." Anna crystallised the problem which Harm had considered on the first day that he had met Trisha.

He – along with Caitlin – looked at Surgeon Commander Wilkinson. "Doc, the Supervisory Board has considered and signed off on the anonymity plan. I would ask you – please – to respect that decision and joins us for the next three years whilst our daughter is in the Academy". He had reached out his hand to Trisha. She looked at him and smiled proudly, then turned her gaze towards Wilkinson.

He smiled, warmly as he looked at Trisha.

"Admiral and Mrs Rabb" (present in the Academy for the past three years, he had simply made the assumption that their marriage was hidden along with their daughter's identity). "How could I break your confidence – endorsed by the Supervisory Board – when my own child is in the second year of their four years here?"

Harm's jaw dropped – whilst Caitlin preserved her traditional JAG calm. They reached out to the doctor, who smiled and shook hands with them.

He sighed. "Now then, Miss Pike, let us get you patched up and get your recovery under way."

**RMRG-RMRG-RMRG-RMRG**

**Monday 29****th**** May 2017, 08:15hrs EDT**

**Penthouse suite, 210 E Fairfax St, Falls Church, VA 22046:**

"OK Trisha, you need to make your electives."

Trisha's grades were high enough that she made the Superintendent's List. That means Grade Point Average of of at least 3.4 with no grade of D, F, or Incomplete in any course, an A in Conduct, an A in Military Performance, and an A in Physical Education.

Trisha was keeping up a family tradition – both her mom and father had made the list during all four years at the Academy. In addition to the letter from the Superintendent (her dad), Trisha would be qualified to wear a gold star on her uniform.

Trisha was conflicted – did she follow "the family business" or strike out on her own in the new millennium? She had to declare a major, which will depend on what branch of the Navy she decides to pursue. She had to pick her parents' brains.

Kate began the story. "Well, Trisha. Harm went into aviation, so Aerospace Engineering would be natural for him. I was a computer expert, so I majored in Mathematics, although I could have gone into Cyber Operations…"

She paused, taking Harm's hand before continuing; "…(which is where Diane Schonke ended up), or Information Technology."

Trisha shrugged. "So, who was Diane Schonke, mom?"

**RMRG-RMRG-RMRG-RMRG**

**Monday 29****th**** May 2017, 08:50hrs EDT**

**Penthouse suite, 210 E Fairfax St, Falls Church, VA 22046:**

"Harm, you are probably best to tell this; I'll go make the coffees." She kissed him softly on the cheek.

Trisha eased her plaster-protected forearm and looked at her father.

"Well, it is probably a good time to tell you the story whilst you are injured, because Diane was instrumental in getting me to walk again (and, ultimately, back to flying) back in 1991."

"Just as you have your four horsemen at the Academy and your Mom, similarly, had three great Academy friends through thick and thin, Diane was one of my fellow Musketeers, along with Jack Keeter and Sturgis Turner."

Trisha leaned in, fascinated as Harm, having explained the story of Diane, took up the discussion on the Academy's course options list for the Class of 2020.

"The toughest major is Naval Architecture & Marine Engineering. The USNA is the premier school for Marine Engineering in this country, and the Academy only accepts 30 new Marine Engineering students each year. They turn down Marine Engineering applicants with perfect scores SAT scores."

He smiled at his daughter, thinking through the options. If Trisha gained acceptance into the Academy School of Marine Engineering, Harm and Kate would be the proudest parents in the nation. Their daughter would be extending and developing the Pike-Rabb family principles of excellence.

His gaze fell upon the diamond sparkling on Caitlin's finger.

This was going to be a really good year.

**RMRG-RMRG-RMRG-RMRG**

**End of Ch07 – "Top student, into second year"**


	8. A wedding and a meeting

**Red Mittens and a Rose Garden – the Trisha Pike Chronicles, **

**Chapter 08 – "A wedding and a meeting"**

**A/N: AU. **What if there was a long-term consequence to the weekend romp between Lt Caitlin Pike and Lt Harmon Rabb Jr at that motel back in the summer of 1996? What is the responsible way to deal with an unexpected aftermath?

**A/N – link to Canon Episodes: **"One big boat" (S10Ep06, broadcast 12-Nov-2004); A "post-canon" timeline puts this into "_**JAG Season 22**_**…**" (solely for those who want to count!).

**A/N –I pay tribute to "MTC29" for his advice and knowledge regarding Academy life and principles.**

**A/N: Publication date: 27-03-2020: Greetings from the isolation ward. Coronavirus precautions in the UK have provided some much-needed time for authoring!**

**Notes** _**Mike, UK, 27-Mar-2020**_

**Characters from FFNET – C Pike, H Rabb jr, Faith McBurney-Coleman plus OC**

**RMRG-RMRG-RMRG-RMRG**

**Ch08– "A wedding and a meeting" **

**RMRG-RMRG-RMRG-RMRG**

**Saturday 12th August 2017 – 13:00hrs EDT: **

**Academy Chapel, US Naval Academy, Annapolis MD:**

"I, Harmon David Rabb jr, take you Caitlin Rose Pike, to be my wedded wife".

Harm struggled with the "_till death us do part_" bit of the vows but he ploughed through. The memories of Mac's demise still sat uncomfortably in his memory but he had long-ago accepted that he could have done nothing more on that terrible day.

Caitlin stood before him in a tailored suit in very pale cream, topped off by a pill-box hat and matching stilettoes. Harm had discovered, when he hugged her as she arrived at the altar with Admiral Chegwidden as her escort, that she had been diving into the corsetry box again! Alongside Harm, Jack Keeter was surveying the assembled female contingent. Harm sighed: "_Same old Keeter!_"

By contrast, Caitlin simply glowed as she made her wedding vows to the man who, some 21 years earlier, had fathered her child during that wonderful weekend romp. To be marrying Harm in her 40s and looking forward to growing old together with him had come as a bit of a surprise. However, she knew that his marriage proposal was simply Fate taking control and closing the circle of life.

**RMRG-RMRG-RMRG-RMRG**

Harm and Caitlin had deferred the wedding plans slightly, to allow Trisha to be fully fit. As representatives of the "the student body", Anna, Tom and Tony were invited to the wedding.

Doctor Wilkinson was also invited, with his wife and their offspring – who turned out to be a tall brunette to whom Tony Lee had already professed an attraction. Later that day, Tony would be seen, deep in conversation, with Samantha Wilkinson who was about to commence her third season at the Academy as a "second class" midshipman.

Looking at Tony and Samantha, the other three Horsemen wondered how the two newly-minted "friends" would be able to contain their attraction until Tony's graduation. The rules and protocols of the USNA were clear and strict.

As the Chaplain completed the service, Caitlin looked down at her left hand. The wedding ring had been designed to complement the Rabb family ring. She knew that it would be resting there, either until Trisha's engagement or until Caitlin was "put to bed with a shovel", as she had once heard another female JAG describing her commitment to marriage.

**RMRG-RMRG-RMRG-RMRG**

Harm's mom Tricia Rabb-Boone greeted the couple. Following Frank Burnett's untimely demise from his third heart attack in 2008, she had steadily built an attachment – and then a relationship – with Tom Boone. The cranky old bachelor had – with Harm's full endorsement and blessing – proposed in the summer of 2011 and they had married on the beach in La Jolla, just north of the lifeguard station, on Christmas Day of 2011. The symbolism of Christmas Eve had seemed, to Tom in particular, just a little too dismissive of Harmon Rabb Senior.

Harm never begrudged his mom her happiness – she had waited a long time for his father to return from 'Nam before moving forward with Frank after taking the hard decision to have Harm Senior declared legally dead. Harm was so pleased that Frank's judicious investments and bonuses from Chrysler had left Tricia with excellent financial security and he truly rejoiced to see Tom Boone happily married after decades of being "always the best man."

"Well, god-son, you've done it now. Miss Pike – excuse me, Mrs Rabb – I could say that you've barely aged a day since that CVH investigation back in '95".

Caitlin smiled warmly as she and Tom kissed. "Oh hush Tom, I have a few aches and pains – plus my 20-year-old gazelle over there is reminding me of just how athletic and energetic I was back then. But I remember you as plain Captain Boone – remember that *you* have also worked hard over the past two decades."

Tom looked across to where Trisha - grouped with Anna, Tony and Tom - was getting to know Samantha Wilkinson.

"Wow Harm, were we ever that young and innocent?" Tom asked his godson.

"You better believe it Admiral – every day I come to work, I am reminded of the excellence of this country's youth and the cream of the crop who apply, year after year, to serve in the Navy of our great country. Did Trisha tell you she's going for Marine Engineering?"

Tom nodded. "Heck I guess any old sailor can fly. But to keep our Navy at the forefront in the years ahead, we're gonna need great engineering officers graduating out of USNA every year. I reckon that Miss Pike over there is going to be a credit to her mom and dad."

"No argument here, Tom."

Not even the news, later in the day, of the incident at the "Unite the Right" march in Charlottesville, Virginia (which turned violent when car rammed protesters killing one and injuring 19) could take the shine off Harm and Caitlin's special day.

**RMRG-RMRG-RMRG-RMRG**

The summer had flown by, with Trisha released from her plaster cast by the start of August. She had worked hard on her physical therapy and, by the end of September, it was almost impossible to discern a difference between her two forearms. The other three Horsemen had kept in contact during her recuperation and, with the start of term for their second stint at the Academy (where they were termed "third class" cadets) the gang was reunited.

Trisha had followed her instincts and had won the competitive assessment for one of the 30 highly-prized slots on the Marine Engineering course. She spent more time, during this second year at USNA, indulging her passion for sailing. The Academy sailing club saw her out on the water regularly.

It was during one trip on board the Sailing Club's larger vessel that Trisha made her next connection with the ER.

A minor tumble from the rigging saw a concussed Trisha Pike back in the ER. Dr Wilkinson, again in attendance, threatened to have "season ticket" printed for her. 36 hours later, she was back out and about, with no ill-effects from her tumble.

Harm, remembering his investigation of a mishap on a USNA sailing club vessel back in 2004, instigated another investigation. He wanted to be certain that nothing could have been overlooked.

The investigation renewed his acquaintance with Bud Roberts, now a full three-ring Commander and back at JAG after a posting to the Pentagon. On hearing the news of Ham's marriage to Caitlin (whom Bud remembered for the 1995 investigation), Harriet and Bud were invited down, along with their offspring, for a weekend in November.

Bud's recommendations were simple but effective; the Sailing Club set up a working party, using instructors and students, to implement the suggested changes.

**RMRG-RMRG-RMRG-RMRG**

**Tuesday 31st October 2017, 18:55hrs EDT**

**Main Ballroom, Westin Annapolis hotel, 100 Westgate Circus, Annapolis MD, VA 21401:**

"Mom, it won't go any tighter!"

"Well honey, it's your fault for pushing the exercise envelope since your flipper came out of plaster" Caitlin retorted, smiling warmly at their reflections in the mirror as she tied off the laces on her daughters wrist guards.

Stepping back, she looked approvingly at her daughter, whose face was partly obscured by the Selina Kyle mask.

Trisha stood perfectly still as Caitlin tied off the slack which she had just teased out of Trisha's corset. The underpinnings of the vinyl "Catwoman" costume had been designed and developed, by mother and daughter at weekends, since the start of September.

Giving Trisha's cat ears an affectionate tweak, Caitlin kissed her daughter and watched as Trisha headed off to join her fellow third class midshipmen.

"I said those heels were too high for her" she confided in her husband. Harm, costumed as Blackbeard for the party, merely laughed and turned his eyes upon his bride. His gaze bored through to her soul and Caitlin experienced that increasingly-familiar sense of warming.

"_He's mine, exclusively and forever; thank you Lord for bringing us back together_."

She smiled and turned her back to her husband, lifting up her hair to give him a clear view of her back. "Harm, it's time for Wonder Woman to be tightened up ready for the party."

Harm dextrously adjusted the lacing beneath Caitlin's costume, then gave her satin-clad buttocks a gentle and affectionate pat.

"All set, Mrs Rabb. I am so glad that the Academy started this Hallowe'en party the other year. It keeps our cadets safe but enables them to let down their hair in a safe environment. It's just a shame that tomorrow is a school day for them."

"Yes Harm, but they are a disciplined bunch and it's better to celebrate Hallowe'en 'on the night' rather than a few days either side."

He sighed; he knew that Mrs Rabb was right. He reached for her left hand, rubbing his thumb over the rings which already looked like they had been there for ever. She moaned gently and laid her head, briefly, on his chest.

Then she looked up into his eyes and nodded.

"OK, let's circulate."

**RMRG-RMRG-RMRG-RMRG**

**Tuesday 31st October 2017, 21:59hrs EDT**

**Main Ballroom, Westin Annapolis hotel, 100 Westgate Circus, Annapolis MD, VA 21401:**

"So, Texas Ranger, what part of the Home Territory are you from? Dallas, Austin, Galveston?"

Trisha's masked dancing partner, with whom she had been dancing for most of the evening, tipped his cowboy hat back (allowing the light to fall on his olive skintones) and adopted a Texan drawl.

"Wa'al, li'l lady; I kinda mosied on over the border from Gallup New Mexico; rode ma Palomino hoss down Route 66 then hung a right at the border."

By this time, Trisha could barely contain her mirth at his deliberately-hokey accent. In contrast, she was also finding it hard to laugh heartily, given the confines of her costume. Sipping her drink, she looked into her dance partner's eyes. A warm, friendly gaze looked back into her eyes.

She decided to make a move. "Look, I know that we have two and a half years ahead of us before the Honour code releases us, but would you like to meet up socially?"

He straightened, taking her left hand.

"You mean, just as friends but as a platonic support group? I see you and your three other Horsemen occasionally."

**"****Absolutely." **Trisha's response came out forcefully. Something about this man was calling to her.

He slipped back into the Texan drawl: "Wa'al, Ma'am, I reckon that I'd be right honoured to make your acquaintance properly and in daylight. Thank the good Lord that we ain't here as vampires."

Their handshake continued as she responded.

"OK, I'm in Marine engineering and I'm Trisha."

"Please to make your acquaintance Trisha; my friends call me RV. I'm a Marine."

They shook hands. Trisha appreciated his firm handshake: all the signs were positive.

"Pleasure to make your acquaintance, RV. Let's meet for coffee (or lunch?) at the Galway Bay on Saturday."

"Sure thing Trisha: how about 11:30hrs at the bar?"

"Sounds like an RV, RV!"

His groan was only *just* discernible over the music!

**RMRG-RMRG-RMRG-RMRG**

**End of Ch08 – "Midway to graduation and a welcome wedding"**

**++++++++++++Cut above here for FFN Publication.**


	9. RV, TP and the fifth Horseman

**Red Mittens and a Rose Garden – the Trisha Pike Chronicles, **

**Chapter 09 – "RV, TP and the fifth Horseman"**

**A/N: AU. **What if there was a long-term consequence to the weekend romp between Lt Caitlin Pike and Lt Harmon Rabb Jr at that motel back in the summer of 1996? What is the responsible way to deal with an unexpected aftermath?

**A/N – link to Canon Episodes: **"One big boat" (S10Ep06, broadcast 12-Nov-2004); A "post-canon" timeline puts this into "_**JAG Season 22**_**…**" (solely for those who want to count!).

**A/N –I pay tribute to "MTC29" for his advice and knowledge regarding Academy life and principles.**

**A/N: Publication date: 28-03-2020: On a roll after publishing Chapter 08 last night, but please don't expect "three for three", my dear readers!**

**Notes** _**Mike, UK, 28-Mar-2020**_

**Characters from FFNET – C Pike, H Rabb jr, Faith McBurney-Coleman plus OC**

**RMRG-RMRG-RMRG-RMRG**

**Ch09– "RV, TP and the fifth Horseman" **

**RMRG-RMRG-RMRG-RMRG**

**Saturday 4****th**** November 2017, 11:55hrs EDT**

**Galway Bay Irish Pub and bar, 63 Maryland Ave, Annapolis MD, VA 21401:**

"Trisha, so pleased you could make it. What may I get you as my treat to start?"

"Hallo RV; thanks, a latte would be good please – then lunch is on me because I insist." The two USNA midshipmen shook hands and settled onto two stools at the bar as RV placed the order for coffees. His eyes drank in Trisha's hair (tied back in a high-mounted ponytail), complexion and trim legs tucked into trainers. Her top half was concealed in a "San Diego" city sweatshirt.

In return, Trisha liked what she saw. Things could well develop (necessarily in the long-term) with this young man. She reckoned that she would probably be climbing the walls by May of 2020 when they would both graduate and be free to finally "_get physical_". She sighed, admiring his "six" (as her mom had always referred to her own derriere) as he leaned across to snag some napkins from the dispenser along the bar.

"So, RV: I'm Trisha, but happy to be 'TP' to your 'RV' for a while if you fancy maintaining the '_international man of mystery_' analogy."

He chuckled at her idea, nodding his thanks to the barman as their coffees arrived.

"Well TP, I guess that the "Lone Ranger" mask caught your fancy?"

Trisha nodded. "Yep – and just as the Catwoman mask probably caught yours." She paused, sipping her coffee. "You know, I had to think hard about how to recognise you today, after our first encounter in the low light of that ballroom on Tuesday night."

He held up his coffee to toast her. "Well, 'TP', you are clearly a very observant young lady and I compliment you on your observational skills. Yes, that was quite a costume you were sewn into on Tuesday night. The pony-tail out the top of the mask was a slight sign for me to home in on today."

"Well actually RV I can thank my mom for a lot of the work on the costume; but on Tuesday night, it was more a case of thinking to myself that you have the most beautiful eyes when we first met."

Trisha paused, blushing ferociously as her mind raced ahead. What was she thinking? This could only ever be platonic (at least until they graduated). This was not how she had planned for the conversation to go. And could she keep this up for the next 32 months until May of 2020?

RV eased her embarrassment – he reached across and, very gently, lifted her hand to his lips and kissed her knuckles gently, carefully avoiding looking into her eyes.

"Please forgive me TP, but I just had to do that once, for my own sanity. Your modesty is safe." Then he gazed into her eyes; she looked deeper into the dark brown orbs of his eyes and felt herself getting ready to dive in…

Trisha's blushing continued: she had been on the point of saying "don't stop". Seeing her apparent discomfort, RV released her hand and sat back into his chair, looking at her with a cool, appraising expression.

"_Dear God, if he can do this to me with a look and a caress, how the hell am I going to survive to Graduation_?"

RV nodded, placed his coffee back on the coaster and broke their gaze for a moment.

"TP, to echo Bogart, '_I believe this could be the start of a beautiful friendship_': however, only if you are comfortable."

Trisha hadn't gone beyond the "heavy petting" stage of second dates back in San Diego before she and Caitlin had headed back east for her to join USNA. However, Caitlin had tutored her in how real life can be both loving and cruel. She had also read enough trashy fictional novels and stories to recognise that she was rapidly sailing out into deep water. Probably with neither paddle nor compass, either!

"RV, let's stick with the idea of using our initials for a while; I kinda like the idea of a bit of mystery."

He nodded. "Yes, I agree. Plus after the masks, '_mysterious friends_' could be a good state of play for our relationship – if we decide that it *is* a kind of relationship based upon friendship?" He raised an inquisitive eyebrow.

"Yes RV, it is; this is definitely a friendship." With that decision made, Trisha caught the barman's eye and asked for two menus to be brought across. She directed RV to settle up his tab for the coffees and then the two midshipmen, by mutual agreement, slipped off their bar-stools and headed across to one of the booths along the side of the restaurant.

Trisha noted that RV waited until she had seated herself before he slid in around the opposite side of the table and picked up the spare menu.

"So, TP, any dietary restrictions?" he enquired.

"Nope, Mom brought me up to be an omnivore. It turns out that my dad is a vegetarian, but as I only met him for the first time last year, he hasn't had much impact on my upbringing."

"Last year? How so after – I would guess – 18 years?"

"He and Mom worked in the same part of the Navy and they finally got it together one weekend by mutual agreement. Mom forgot the condoms and, by the time she knew for sure that she was carrying me, they had already agreed to a civilised parting of the ways and she was posted elsewhere. They did meet up once - when I was about three or four - but she never had the private time alone with him to tell him about me."

She shrugged: "And then our paths crossed last year, when I met him unexpectedly and I liked him – a lot! Then we discovered that he had married and subsequently lost his wife. He and Mom fell right back in love when they met, so they got married in August this year and they are *so* happy together. I hope to be as lucky one day."

She looked down at her bare hands as she marshalled her thoughts.

RV smiled. "Well, that's not too far from my story. My Mom met my Dad when he was on a furlough – they had been friends at school, she fell for the Marine uniform and, well, as the saying goes 'one thing led to another' and I arrived nine months later. Dad was then posted to a few different places but, when he left the service, he set up a programme for troubled kids back in New Mexico based around _San Miguel de la alta chapparal_ and they married when I was ten. He was mighty proud when I told him I would be joining the Marines- and the Academy - and he's looking forward to saluting me when I graduate. He says that it's about time that the first commissioned officer in the family was saluted by a retired Gunny."

At that point in their exchange of histories, the meals arrived. With cheese and grease dripping down her cheeks as she chewed her surprisingly-juicy Philly Steak sandwich, Trisha was grateful when RV leaned across with a napkin poised, asked with raised eyebrow for her consent and then wiped away much of the evidence.

After she had swallowed, Trisha thanked him, taking a swig of her Budweiser and reaching for another napkin to clean her hands before returning to her plate for "Round Two". RV, meanwhile, tucked into his monster burger.

Being well brought-up, the two midshipmen subscribed to the military mantra, around food, of "_take all you want, but eat all that you take_".

With main meal items completed and the fries under attack on their plates, Trisha pushed forward with the idea which had been forming over the previous few days.

"RV, I have a small circle of friends. We call ourselves the Four Horsemen: two female midshipmen and two males, but this is just the way things played out."

"Sounds like a good grouping. Because the Marines contingent in USNA is smaller, we have formed some informal squads, based around team sports, but nothing as organised as your Horsemen, TP."

Their conversation continued for some time, before Trisha signalled for the check and they then strolled out into the bright November sunshine to start their circuitous walk back to the Academy gates.

**RMRG-RMRG-RMRG-RMRG**

**Saturday 4****th**** November 2017, 21:45hrs EDT: **

**Female dormitory, US Naval Academy, Annapolis MD, 21412:**

Trisha was still blushing some hours later as she recounted the events of the day – and her time spent with RV – to her fellow Horse(wo)man. Trisha was running through her story with Anna Svenson as the two students relaxed after their cycle ride around the campus before turning in for bed.

"I tell you, Anna, he made me blush just by looking at me. Oh God, I was on fire at one point."

"So, he obviously made an impression." Anna paused, her mouth agape. "Hang on, was that the masked Texas Ranger that you were hanging around at the Ball on Tuesday night?"

Trisha nodded, still blushing furiously. Enjoying her friend's discomfort, Anna launched into the old-time nursery rhyme:

"**_Trisha and the Ranger, sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G!_**"

"Hey, no we were *not*, little Miss Rumour-mill!" Trisha slugged her affectionately with a pillow. "Oh Anna, hush up! He was the perfect gentleman. Besides, you and I both know that we can't act on any impulses until we leave here – it just isn't allowed. However…" She paused: "I reckon that we need to get Tom and Tony involved, because I reckon that RV could be a very good fifth horsemen."

"Sounds like a good idea; let's run it by the guys at breakfast tomorrow. Which church are you going to attend in the morning?"

"Oh, probably the Calvary Memorial Baptist Church on East Street".

Anna looked coolly at her over the lid of her laptop. "Good job you ain't Catholic! Oh sister, have you got it bad! Well, if you reckon this guy is a potential Horseman, I guess that the other three of us need to meet him."

**RMRG-RMRG-RMRG-RMRG**

**Saturday 16****th**** December 2017, 14:00hrs EDT: **

**Superintendent's Accommodation, US Naval Academy, Annapolis MD, 21402:**

"Caitlin, how much have you packed in this suitcase?" We're going to San Diego for a delayed honeymoon, not moving you back to Coronado!" Harm's spine was complaining as he lined up the suitcases for their departure.

"Oh hush your moaning, husband. A girl has to look her best on her honeymoon. Besides, you have handed over to Faith Coleman, so the Academy is hers for a while. Let's get ready to fly." Caitlin smiled, her trademark pursed-lips appraising smile as she thought up another meaning for her next joke.

"Look Harm, Trish and Tom have already said that they will be taking us out and showing us around their friends – and I believe that I am right when I say that the Admiral's wife should set standards."

Harm was about to come back with some witty retort when the doorbell rang.

"Oh Harm, can you get that please?" Caitlin was teetering as she rested against the bed, trying to slip on her second stiletto. "Trisha is due to bring the new member of the Horsemen around to meet us."

Harm opened the door, yielding slightly as Trisha rushed into his arms, and eyeing up the young man who had been standing alongside Trisha. The young man, he noted who, upon recognising Harm, stood rapidly into a brace, the colour draining from his olive features.

"Hey Dad, I want to introduce you to the fifth Horseman." She turned to RV, who was recovering the power of speech after the sudden revelation of the identity of Trisha's father.

"Jeez, TP, you could have warned me that your Dad is the Admiral" he whispered out of the side of his mouth.

Standing alongside Harm, with her head resting under her dad's chin, Trisha looked back at RV. "Oh, I think not, RV, because that would have spoiled the surprise! Besides, where is the fun in forewarning every time?"

Harm extended his hand to the young man who still stood at attention on his doorstep. "Welcome to my home, young man. Please relax because this is home, not the parade ground. I understand that you are one of the Marine midshipmen from my daughter's intake?"

"Yes Admiral. Wow, I wish that TP had told me."

"TP" Harm was puzzled.

"Yes sir: when we met, your daughter knew me by my initials, so we got into the habit of me calling her TP by way of exchange."

"So, your initials are RV; what started this initials thing?" Harm was curious – this young man seemed very open but…

"My mother christened me Randolph, but the kids at school always shortened it to Randy". RV smiled lop-sidedly. "It's great as a ten year old, but maybe not in late teenage. So I took the opportunity, on entering the Academy, to use my second initial and simply tell people to 'call me RV' and it's worked great for the past year or so."

"So the 'V' is for…?" harm was fascinated.

"Victor, sir."

"So, Randolph Victor...?

"Galindez, sir. Randolph Victor Galindez."

**RMRG-RMRG-RMRG-RMRG**

**End of Ch09 – "RV, TP and the fifth Horseman"**

**++++++++++++Cut above here for FFN Publication.**


	10. California Dreamin' - and a nightmare

**Red Mittens and a Rose Garden – the Trisha Pike Chronicles, **

**Chapter 10 – "California Dreamin' – and a nightmare"**

**A/N: AU. **What if there was a long-term consequence to the weekend romp between Lt Caitlin Pike and Lt Harmon Rabb Jr at that motel back in the summer of 1996? What is the responsible way to deal with an unexpected aftermath?

**A/N – link to Canon Episodes: **"ARES" (S1Ep21, broadcast 22-May-1996); A "post-canon" timeline puts this into "**_JAG Season 22_****…**" (solely for those who want to count!).

**A/N –**Today, I am able to draw on pleasant memories of a visit to San Diego and La Jolla in December 2019. Seems so long ago now!

**A/N: Publication date: 29-03-2020: **OK, for the first time ever, three chapters in three days, finishing with a bumper episode especially in response to yesterday's plea from "**Inkysplatt1**". And now, dear readers, I shall rest, as we have moved from GMT into British Summer Time.

**Notes** **_Mike, UK, 29-Mar-2020 – Disney would describe this as containing "Mild Peril"!_**

**Characters from FFNET – C Pike, H Rabb jr, Faith McBurney-Coleman plus OC**

**RMRG-RMRG-RMRG-RMRG**

**Ch10– "California Dreamin' – and a nightmare " **

**RMRG-RMRG-RMRG-RMRG**

**Saturday 16th December 2017, 21:27hrs PDT **

**VIP Reception desk, Hotel del Coronado, ****1500 Orange Ave, Coronado, CA 92118**

"Welcome, Admiral and Mrs Rabb; please allow me to personally escort you to your suite."

The Black American Express Card had triggered what Caitlin would later describe as "_just the right level of grovelling from the staff_". The arrangements had been flawless and their transfer from the airport had been trouble-free.

"_Hotel del Coronado, also known as The Del and Hotel Del, is a historic beachfront hotel in the city of Coronado, just across the San Diego Bay from San Diego, California. It is one of the few surviving examples of an American architectural genre: the wooden Victorian beach resort_." Caitlin was browsing the entry for the hotel on Wikipedia as her husband checked in.

"Indeed madam – and it is a pleasure to work here." The hotel manager, who was supervising their arrival, seemed slightly familiar. The name badge – "Dennis" – gave nothing away and his politely-friendly eyes twinkled behind blue-tinted spectacles and a neatly-trimmed beard. His salt-and-pepper hair colour hinted at middle age, yet he hefted two of their suitcases easily as the bell-hop carried their other items of luggage up to the Presidential Suite.

Again, his voice sounded everso-slightly familiar as he gave Harm and Caitlin a potted history of the hotel – of which he was clearly so proud. "_When it opened in 1888, it was the single largest resort hotel in the world. It has hosted presidents, royalty, and celebrities through the years. Our __hotel has been featured in numerous movies and books._"

"Harm, just look at that bed!" Caitlin exclaimed. Harm turned to "Dennis" and the bell-hop, proffering dollar bills which Dennis generously directed to the bellhop with a polite "service is its own reward at the Hotel del Coronado".

"My wife and I are still on DC time, so for our bodies it is somewhere past midnight and into Sunday morning."

"Then, we shall withdraw and allow you to catch up on your rest; the Concierge button on the phone is available 24/7 whenever you require us. You also have complete and complimentary use of the Health Club and day spa. Please enjoy your stay, Admiral and Mrs Rabb."

Once the door had close, Caitlin kicked off her heels, strode to the door to check the Judas hole then turned to Harm, smiling broadly.

"My lord, if he had bowed and scraped any lower, he would have left a groove on the carpet."

She walked to the panoramic window, looking out at the darkened seascape. Just a week away from the midwinter solstice, the sun had long-ago sunk into the Pacific.

"This should be a great view tomorrow, Harm."

"Yes, I hope so darling, because we have a day of rest before I start updating Gordon Cresswell on our wills, combining properties and updating the pre-nup, then running through Mom and Tom's revisions to their wills now that they have a married son, a daughter-in-law and a grand-daughter."

Caitlin strolled seductively back towards him, unbuttoning her jacket and starting work on the top buttons of her blouse. Harm lay back on the bed, admiring the floor show being put on by his bride.

He took her hands and gently kissed her knuckles.

"Are you sure that you're OK with me taking two part-days to sort the Rabb family 'stuff' out while we are here?"

Caitlin leaned down, linked her arms around the back of her husband's neck and French-kissed him passionately.

"Well, husband, so long as you do your duty tomorrow and every night that we are in this Presidential honeymoon suite, I shall be happy to let you go and play with the lawyers. Besides," she paused, "I am coming with you on Monday anyway. We're going to visit Tom and your mom tomorrow in La Jolla and then again at some point in the day on Monday, while you get started with Gordon. Then, on Tuesday I shall be a lady of leisure around the hotel."

"Sounds like a plan. Now, let's get out of these travelling clothes and into that shower."

"Now that, my darling husband, is *definitely* talking my language." Caitlin was already unbuttoning the waistband of her skirt, prior to starting work on her thigh-high stockings. Harm quickly stripped off, ready for their trip to the facilities in the huge bathroom.

**RMRG-RMRG-RMRG-RMRG**

**Sunday 17th December 2017, 08:54hrs PDT **

**Breakfast room, Hotel del Coronado, ****1500 Orange Ave, Coronado, CA 92118**

"Admiral, welcome to our breakfast room. There is a full buffet service and please let us know if there is anything – at all – that we can do to make your stay even more pleasant."

Harm and Caitlin strolled over to one of the tables by the window. The watery early-morning winter sun was striking through the glass and warming the surface of the table.

Harm settled for eggs and a bowl of fruit, whilst Caitlin began with cereal and then headed for the hot breakfast buffet. As she returned, her warm eyes flashed a challenge to her husband. He just looked at her plate.

"Harm, I am still three pounds below the weight at which I married, so I have extra space for a good breakfast should I choose. Besides…" she smiled "someone burned off another load of my extra energy last night."

She was amazed at how Harm, caught at the right moment, could be made to blush. It was one of the many adorable characteristics of her husband, she decided. She wouldn't change him for anything.

After breakfast, the two honeymooners spent a lazy morning strolling around Coronado island before they drove north on the 28-mile journey to La Jolla. A leisurely lunch with Tom and Trish Rabb-Boone took up most of the rest of their day before they finally returned to the Del in time for a nightcap before an early night – which turned out to be not so early, once the door of the suite had been bolted!

**RMRG-RMRG-RMRG-RMRG**

**Sunday 17th December 2017, 22:17hrs PDT **

**Presidential Suite, Hotel del Coronado, ****1500 Orange Ave, Coronado, CA 92118**

Lazily, Caitlin stretched out an arm across the bed and asked Harm: "What are the timings for tomorrow, Harm?"

The meeting with Tom and Trish had provided Harm with all the information which he needed in order to brief his former CO, now a successful family lawyer in San Diego.

Gordon "Biff" Cresswell had settled in San Diego after retiring as JAG. He had fulfilled the promise that he made to Dora on their wedding day all those years ago, that when his service was completed, he would bring her home to the area where she had been born – the upscale neighbourhood of Torrey Pines, where they would set up their final home home. Dora – having counted up the number of different homes which they had occupied during Gordon's long and distinguished military career – had been very grateful to collect the keys for Torrey Pines.

Originally Dora's father – the Admiral - had been less than happy when Dora had taken up with "some darn marine", yet the arrival of Cammy - his solitary grandchild – had softened the old man's heart. Gordon and Dora Cresswell had inherited the home a few years back – which hastened Gordon's decision to retire and head for Dora's West Coast roots.

"Well, Creswell suggested 11:00hrs and I reckon that works for me. How about you, Mrs Rabb?"

"Yep, that should work fine for a leisurely breakfast; now come back here to bed Mister Rabb and fly me back to the carrier please."

"Yes ma'am."

"**RMRG-RMRG-RMRG-RMRG**

**Monday 18th December 2017, 10:58hrs PDT **

**Law Offices of Gordon M Cresswell, 22xx Villa La Jolla Drive, Torrey Pines, ****CA 92037**

"Harm, welcome; and Mrs Rabb, welcome and congratulations on your marriage. Dora sends her regards."

"Thanks Gener…"

Cresswell held up a silencing hand.

"Please, Mr Client, my days in uniform are over. *I* am here to serve *you* - by which I mean both of you unless you direct me otherwise. Also, please feel free to call me 'Gordon' as it *is* my given name."

After looking across at Gordon, Caitlin turned to her husband and nudged him. "I like this guy, Harm". As Cresswell grinned, Harm lifted her hand and kissed it, before replying that "Well, because he will be billing us for his time darling, you need to like his work even more."

Amid easy, friendly laughter, the work began.

At 15:00hrs, everything was complete. Cresswell confirmed the final arrangements as he shook hands with harm and Caitlin.

"OK Admiral and Mrs Rabb, leave it with me and the materials will be ready for review by lunchtime tomorrow."

"That's great. Caitlin, I can come up here to cross-check the papers and leave you – if you are still planning to do this – to enjoy the hotel." Harm closed Cresswell's office door as he and Caitlin strolled to the rental Chrysler.

"Harm, that sounds great; you remember that I want to get to San Francisco on Wednesday or Thursday for that corsetiere?"

"Oh yes, darling – Dark Autumn was it?"

Caitlin sighed, then she set about patiently correcting her husband. "No, the shop is called 'Dark Garden Corsetry' and it was founded and run by a lovely lady with the unusual name of Autumn. They've been going for almost 30 years now."

"Ah, yes, now I remember." Harm was very happy to indulge his bride's tastes in foundation wear – after all, it had enhanced their experience on the weekend that young Trisha had been conceived.

"Here's a plan, Caitlin. Let's stay local in San Diego on Wednesday and go for Thursday, because the weather looks good here for Wednesday and we can always bump the Frisco trip to Friday if something happens."

"Sounds like a plan. I shall book the flights when we get to the hotel tonight."

"And now, Mrs Rabb, back across to La Jolla for afternoon tea with Mom and Tom."

"Sounds great; drive on and away you go, Mr Rabb."

**RMRG-RMRG-RMRG-RMRG**

**Monday 18th December 2017, 21:06hrs PDT **

**Presidential Suite, Hotel del Coronado, ****1500 Orange Ave, Coronado, CA 92118**

On returning to the Del, Caitlin dug out her Amex Black Card and, firing up her laptop, headed for her Expedia account. Another session of lazy lovemaking then left the newlyweds ready for sleep.

**RMRG-RMRG-RMRG-RMRG**

**Tuesday 19th December 2017, 09:49hrs PDT **

**Presidential Suite, Hotel del Coronado, ****1500 Orange Ave, Coronado, CA 92118**

"Now, are you sure that you will be OK, darling?"

Following breakfast, Harm and Caitlin had returned to the suite, where Caitlin had deliberately set out to distract Harm as he loaded up the briefcase with the papers needed for the final planning session with Cresswell up in Torrey Pines.

"Will you drop by your Mom's today, Harm?"

"Depends how I feel – how long do you need today?"

"Well, I have the sauna booked this morning, with a manicure and pedicure for the afternoon, so I don't need to see you (forgive me for saying this, darling husband) until you turn up hungry around 1600hrs."

Harm looked confused. "I didn't think that restaurant opened until 1800hrs…" he paused, looking at the broad smile on Caitlin's face.

"Idiot, I mean that there are other appetites and hungers." She lifted the front of her demure knee-length skirt, surprising Harm with the fact that she had "gone commando" for the day. He noted the little "Navy anchor" motifs at the top of her stay-up stockings.

"All yours, my darling sailor. But only when you get back with the paperwork finished and mission accomplished."

"He swallowed hard, then stammered out "Now there is an incentive! I'll be back on time, darling" before he quit the suite.

Lazily, Caitlin changed and then strolled down to the sauna in her fluffy hotel dressing gown. By 1100 she was back in her suite and re-dressed, ready for a stroll to the bar where she planned to sit and read a book for a while.

**RMRG-RMRG-RMRG-RMRG**

**Tuesday 19th December 2017, 11:12hrs PDT **

**Residents' Lounge and bar, Hotel del Coronado, ****1500 Orange Ave, Coronado, CA 92118**

"Oh Mrs Rabb, good morning. How is your stay and how is the Admiral enjoying his stay?"

"Quite superb, thank you Dennis. My husband is up in Torrey Pines completing some paperwork today for some hours, so after that spa treatment I find myself at a loose end until my beauty treatment that is scheduled for later this afternoon, with just a book to read and the lovely view across to the sea."

A friendly smile greeted that disclosure.

"Well, Mrs Rabb, if I may offer a suggestion without appearing too presumptuous? We have two new batches of champagne from our suppliers. They need to be tasted and then have descriptive notes written for our wine list: I would welcome your view."

"That sounds like a great idea Dennis, especially after the sauna which seems to have sharpened my appetite."

"Well then, Mrs Rabb, as I set up the tasting table, might I enquire when you last ate?"

"Oh, a couple of hours ago at breakfast."

"Excellent: a clear palate is always the best way to carry out our tastings. May I please seat you around this corner so that you may concentrate on the tastings without being disturbed."

"Yes of course, Dennis. Thank you for this offer." She watched him as he poured out the first flute of champagne.

"Now Mrs Rabb, this is the Dom Perignon special reserve – some of our older clients stick to this brand but I would welcome your view of this." He handed her the winery brochure.

Caitlin savoured the sparkling wine as it flowed, crisp and clear, across her tongue and around her palate. "Hmm, I can see what you mean – quite a strong flavour." Distracted by reading the brochure, Caitlin last track of how quickly the sparkling wine was sliding down.

"Well, let me bring you some iced water and then we shall start on the second – this is the one which I particularly would welcome your opinion, because it is from the Nyetimber winery in the United Kingdom."

Caitlin took the iced water and finished it quite quickly, savouring the strong aroma of the sliced limes and lemons, before picking up the glass of Nyetimber. The taste was crisp and sharp, with a slightly acidic bite. "Oh yes, Dennis, I see what you mean about the flavour."

Caitlin reached out to place the glass on the table. Suddenly, she realised that her arms had become heavy and she couldn't keep her eyes open.

"Wha – woz - what's happening"? She tried to stand up, handicapped by her heels, but her legs were not responding to the commands which her brain was trying to send out. She slumped back down in the chair, in a very-un-Caitlin-like pose.

She looked across to where Dennis had been standing.

He appeared in her field of view, very close to her face.

"Well, what did the spider say to the fly? Oh yes, _won't you step into my parlour._ Caitlin, I couldn't believe it when you walked in here after all these years – and married to Rabb as well. This will make my revenge even sweeter."

"You're mad." Caitlin's brain cell had cleared slightly – maybe with the rush of adrenalin as she realised that something was terribly wrong. But then the fog of confusion descended once more, cutting off her brain from her body.

"Maybe – mad for revenge after all these years."

"What?" Caitlin felt him loosening her hair from its ponytail, fanning it out around her shoulder then slipping something into her left ear and clipping it into place. Suddenly his voice echoed in her left ear as her ability to focus and concentrate slipped even further beyond her reach.

"_I'm Dennis Brockman; I've waited over 20 years for my revenge. Now stand up_."

**RMRG-RMRG-RMRG-RMRG**

**Tuesday 19th December 2017, 11:39hrs PDT **

**Residents' Lounge and bar, Hotel del Coronado, ****1500 Orange Ave, Coronado, CA 92118**

Unable to resist, Caitlin stood up. She felt a wire running over her shoulder as Dennis tucked something into the tight waistband of her skirt. It clearly wasn't going to slip out. Dennis placed her jacket over her shoulders, fanning her hair out over the collar.

Then she heard his voice in her left ear. "_Turn around and walk towards the elevators, my obedient little slave_."

Unable to resist, she turned around and began walking towards the elevators. She had no power to resist the instructions of Dennis Brockman, beamed directly into her ear and through to her drugged and obedient brain.

"_Now, push the elevator call button and return to your suite_."

Obediently and mindlessly, she pushed the button to summon the elevator. In the dark recesses of what little remained of her conscious mind, a tiny little alarm bell was chiming. "_This is terribly wrong, but I cannot resist this voice in my brain._"

**RMRG-RMRG-RMRG-RMRG**

**Tuesday 19th December 2017, 12:09hrs PDT **

**Presidential Suite, Hotel del Coronado, ****1500 Orange Ave, Coronado, CA 92118**

Harm, noticing the "do not disturb" sign on their suite door, had let himself in assuming that Caitlin was taking a nap.

"Sorry Darling, I got all the way there and when Gordon and I went through the papers we noticed one of the documents was missing…"

The scene which greeted him would stay with him for many years.

His wife, almost comatose, lay spread-eagled on the bed, still dressed but with each arm or leg handcuffed to a rope tied to the nearest corner of the bed. She was struggling weakly and the handcuffs had already bitten into her wrists, drawing blood.

Standing over her, with a hypodermic needle in his hand, was Dennis the hotel manager.

Harm didn't think, he reacted. Swinging his briefcase in an arc, he caught Dennis on the side of the head. Dennis staggered back, dropping the hypodermic needle, then came at Harm, swinging punches wildly and screaming abuse at Harm.

Harm always fought on a simple principle – "_get your retaliation in first_" – and was able to block and deflect Dennis on the first two haymaker punches which Dennis had thrown, before stepping inside Dennis' guard and, with a swift "one-two", lamped Dennis backwards over the armchair in the suite. Dennis landed in a crumpled pile, unmoving.

Harm tried to raise Caitlin but she only murmured groggily. Fearing the worst having seen Dennis with the syringe, he looked around for the telephone. Picking up the bedside telephone, he dialled for an ambulance and the police, then called NCIS – in their capacity to project Navy families and dependents. He waited quietly, chewing up adrenalin until he heard the sound of approaching sirens...

Within 15 minutes, the hotel suite was filled with Law Enforcement officials, who held back the concerned-looking hotel staff - as well as the Hotel's Head of Security. He looked embarrassed and ashamed when it became clear that Dennis was the perpetrator of Caitlin's drugged and chained ordeal.

The NCIS agents had arrived remarkably quickly – perhaps in deference to a call from "Rear-Admiral Harmon Rabb jr, Superintendent of the US Navy Academy." Harm very rarely "pulled rank", but today was one of those days to push that button.

On checking fingerprints, they were able to confirm that "Dennis" was indeed Dennis Brockman, whom Harm remembered from a 1996 case when the ARES system on a USN warship had malfunctioned off the coast of Korea. Dennis had annoyed Harm by making life difficult for the then Lt Pike and Harm remembered at the time telling Dennis (with whom Caitlin had previously enjoyed a six-month "fling") to "_let her go_".

Clearly, Dennis had not taken that advice and had let his obsession with Caitlin Pike fester for over 20 years. Now, it was time for NCIS to run through their processes. Blood samples were taken from Caitlin. "Whatever he's used, it is likely to be out of her system in hours, so we need the samples soonest."

A swift viewing of the hotel CCTV soon tracked Caitlin's movements back to a pair of empty champagne glasses and a water glass marked with Caitlin's lipstick, which were seized and placed into evidence bags for analysis. NCIS and SDPD had quickly agreed upon the jurisdictional boundaries.

A quick pat-down of Dennis had revealed the keys for the handcuffs, which were unlocked to allow Caitlin (who was still very groggy and completely compliant with every instruction given to her) to be loaded onto a gurney and taken to the hospital for observation.

"What the hell did he give her?" wondered Harm out loud as she waved him farewell with a goofy smile on her face, almost absent-mindedly waving as the gurney headed out of the suite to the waiting ambulance.

"Admiral, I will personally call you with her twenty" the younger NCIS agent promised as he headed to the ambulance to maintain the chain of evidence.

The older of the two NCIS agents took Harm through the CCTV which had quickly been downloaded onto an NCIS laptop. What was terrifying was that Caitlin had apparently walked, on her own, through the hotel to the elevator lobby, then travelled alone in the elevator up to their floor and into the Suite, opening the door with her room key. It was only from certain angles that anyone could just make out that there was something in (or around) her ear – a tactical earpiece which could not be shaken free if she moved her head. Everything else had been hidden beneath her hair and jacket. Her expressionless face was a give-away. Dennis had followed along behind, apparently on a mobile phone call but clearly directing his "puppet". A quick search of the suite had discovered the discarded phones and earpiece on the floor beside the bed.

"Admiral, until the day you die, please thank the good lord that you came back for those documents. Otherwise, we would have had a mystery this evening with very little evidence and just fragments of memories to perplex and torment your wife."

He paused, looking Harm directly in the eye. "Admiral, you strike me as a man who is used to dealing with cold, hard facts and I know that you served as a JAG."

"Yes, Agent Mulligan, although it seems like a lifetime ago."

"Well Admiral, one thing concerns me. Your wife wasn't wearing any panties when we found her."

Harm blushed. "Well, I suspect that my wife was already prepared to welcome me back to the suite this evening; she wasn't wearing any when she had finished dressing this morning, to wave me off to my meeting in Torrey Pines." He sighed: "This *was* meant to be our honeymoon, after the wedding in August."

"Well, Admiral, your wife strikes me – from her service record – as quite a strong and resilient personality. I reckon that she will need that over the next few days as she – aided by you of course – comes to terms with what has been done – and very nearly was done – to her this morning. She'll probably need professional help when the memories finally crystallise – if they ever do. I'm gonna head off and follow Richens to the hospital. Goodbye for now Admiral." He offered his hand, which Harm took and shook vigorously.

"Thanks, Agent Mulligan. I guess you will liaise with SDPD and investigate further?"

"Oh yes Admiral – this is just the start." The grizzled NCIS veteran shook his head. "SDPD found a 'toy chest' of cuffs and restraints under the bed in his hotel apartment. I wonder if this sick bastard has done this before. "

"Well that, Agent, is for you and (I guess) the FBI if he has crossed state lines. Actually Agent Mulligan, I may need a hand. I don't want to try and park my rental at the hospital. I wonder; could someone maybe give me a lift to the hospital and track down your younger colleague on the way with Caitlin's location please?" Harm was opening one of the sea-bags and loading a selection of Caitlin's underclothes, two pairs of long pants, two sweaters, stockings and a pair of boots along with a coat and gloves into the bag. California was not as cold as Montana in December, but his wife would need some protection against the air temperature when she was eventually released. No-one knew what drug – or drugs – had been used on her and what side-effects might still be in store for her.

"Sure thing, Admiral. It will be my pleasure. Right this way." As they walked out, Mulligan was already on his mobile phone summoning Richens for an update and a current location.

**RMRG-RMRG-RMRG-RMRG**

**Tuesday 19th December 2017, 20:43hrs PDT **

**Secure Suite, Community General Hospital****, Coronado, CA 921xxx**

Caitlin opened her eyes slowly, adjusting to the low light levels in the room, then focused on her beloved husband. As she moved her head, a pounding headache struck, causing her to groan. Instantly, Harm was at her bedside, holding her left hand and caressing her wedding band.

"Welcome back, darling."

"Harm, where have I been? The last thing I remember was…" Caitlin paused, reminding him of his former colleague Megan Austin's reflex expression when she was perplexed – chewing her bottom lip whilst she tried to make sense of something.

A stranger peeled himself from the wall and introduced himself. "Agent Mulligan, Mrs Rabb – NCIS."

Caitlin was genuinely worried now, totally unclear as to what was going on, where she was or what had happened to her. She turned to Harm, confusion written on her face.

"Harm? What have I done? I can't remember?" Her customary poise, assurance and self-confidence were all over the floor.

He held her hands, gently rubbing his thumbs over her knuckles. "Darling, I will explain in a moment and I know that this is confusing and scary, but Agent Mulligan needs to ask you some questions straight off, whilst you have fresh memories – or non-memories, maybe I should say."

Dragging her view reluctantly from Harm's adoring face. Caitlin looked at Mulligan as he switched on a small pocket recorder.

"OK Agent Mulligan, what do you need to know?"

"OK Mrs Rabb. Do you know where you are and what day and date it is?"

"I'd guess a hospital of treatment room and Tuesday December 19th. Beyond that, nada."

"OK, good. Now, what was the previous last thing you remember?"

She frowned, trying to gather scraps of memory from the fog of the drugs which Dennis had introduced into her system that morning.

"I remember a spa treatment – the masseuse was very good and she worked on my hands and my neck; I felt wonderful. Oh, then I went back to the suite." She looked across at Harm and smiled guiltily, remembering the morning. "I redressed exactly as I had been for breakfast, then I remember picking up a book. I was going to walk down to the lounge and wait for Harm."

She frowned again. "I remember something about a champagne glass, but then, it gets *really* hazy. Do I remember handcuffs?" She blushed and looked at Harm. Suddenly, he had a direct vision of one of Caitlin Pike's fantasies, but he decided to stay quiet. This was something to explore later and in private!

Her gaze returned to Mulligan. "OK Agent Mulligan, that's my lot, until I woke up in here just now. As a JAG, I've worked with abuse and assault victims, so I know what you will need for your investigation. Do you want to try jogging my memory now you know my limits?"

"Yes please Mrs Rabb, if we may."

**RMRG-RMRG-RMRG-RMRG**

For the next 20 minutes they worked around the gaps in her memory. Mulligan led her through the day several times, from early morning moving forward and from her rescue moving backwards. Apart from some vague thoughts of pulling her hair down and a voice in her left ear, the late morning period was still a total blank to Caitlin. It was as though she had had a mind-wipe (which as the analysis of the drugs in her system would prove, was a frighteningly accurate description of what had been done to her). Her levels of stress rose steadily as the questioning continued, until her reserve broke down after about 45 minutes.

"Harm, may I ask – did I do something terrible? Did I kill someone and cannot remember; what happened darling? Please tell me."

"No darling, nothing like that. You have done nothing, it's the case that someone did something to you but he got caught."

Harm looked across at Mulligan, raising an eyebrow. Mulligan nodded. "It's OK Admiral, we have all we are likely to get for now. If your wife's memory does return further, please let me know." He handed Harm his business card and leaned in to address Harm quietly.

"Initial analysis looks like he used a combination of powerful hypnotics; the victim becomes completely powerless and compliant, then totally obedient to any commands as well as amnesiac. I fear she may never remember anything else, but maybe that is a blessing." He looked up into Harm's eyes and nodded reassuringly. "I reckon this bastard's done this before, so I am bringing the FBI up to speed."

"OK, thanks Agent Mulligan". Harm walked Mulligan to the door. Harm stuck his head out into the corridor and called Mulligan back. "Please tell me that you have enough evidence to nail this bastard?"

"Oh yes admiral, without a shadow of a doubt. The DA is already working the case. He's going down for this. By the way, the sexual assault kit came back negative; I assume that you two used condoms?"

"Yes, we have since we met up again."

"OK, good: now we can look ahead. I shall contact you tomorrow for a follow-up; what are your plans for the rest of the week?"

"We are here over Christmas. Our daughter flies out on Sunday. But on Thursday we were going to fly up to SFO for the day." Harm looked doubtful. "However, now after everything that has been done to Caitlin…"

Mulligan patted Harm's arm. "Admiral, what is the reason for San Francisco on Thursday?"

"My wife has some clothes shopping planned at a particular boutique." Mulligan nodded slowly, in understanding.

"My advice, admiral, after 24 years of marriage? Go and treat her to that retail therapy – and some more pampering - as planned."

"Will do, Agent Mulligan; will do. Goodbye and thanks."

The two men shook hands once more and Mulligan set off down the corridor. Harm closed the door and returned to his bedside vigil.

Caitlin had already dozed off; some time later - around 22:00hrs - Harm joined her in slumber. In his sleep, he smiled: their nightmare day was over. Recovery and recuperation lay ahead.

**RMRG-RMRG-RMRG-RMRG**

**Wednesday 20th December 2017, 05:56hrs PDT **

**Secure Suite, Community General Hospital****, Coronado, CA 921xxx**

Caitlin opened her eyes – and her gaze alighted upon Harm's sleeping face, crumpled up in a small chair with a blanket over his shoulders. Obviously some kind member of the medical staff had taken pity on him during the night.

Bladder pressure soon intruded in Caitlin's mind and she pushed the call button which she found laid out on her pillow. A nurse arrived within a minute. "Good morning Mrs Rabb."

"Good morning nurse Williams". There was nothing wrong with Caitlin's eyesight. "I just wondered if any detectives would need a further urine sample for analysis, because the waterfall is ready to roar. If possible, do you have any sample bottles?" she asked the nurse.

The young woman looked at her oddly. "That's an unusual question, Mrs Rabb."

"Well, I still don't know what happened to me yesterday (most of the day is still a blank until I woke up here yesterday evening) and am qualified as a lawyer and served as a Navy JAG. So procedures and evidence are important to me."

The woman brightened. "OK, that makes sense; let me check your notes back at the nurses' station."

Less than two minutes later, she returned, marking up three urine sample bottles with a pen. She smiled at Caitlin.

"The consensus from three nursing colleagues is '_Can't do any harm_', so here you go Mrs Rabb. We shall change the dressings on your wrists and ankles once you have showered, so don't worry about getting them wet in the shower."

"Thanks"." Caitlin grabbed the sample bottles and headed for the en-suite bathroom in the corner.

Placing the bottles in the bedside table, she stripped off her hospital gown and headed into the shower. By the time she returned, Nurse Williams bustled around them. Replacing the bandages on Caitlin's wrists then settling her onto the bed to rebandage her ankles. The gash in Caitlin's left ankle, where her drugged body had strained her powerful legs against the unyielding grip of the cuff that had been restraining her, was particularly deep. Bruising was beginning to form on all four limbs.

Looking in the sea-bag, nurse Williams produced a set of long gloves. "Now Mrs Rabb, I wish that *my* husband was as considerate and foresighted." Caitlin smiled, carefully doing up her bra and then pulling a black cashmere sweater on. The black gloves complemented the sweater perfectly and would cover her damaged wrists.

After Caitlin had pulled on her underwear and long pants, Nurse Williams reached into the sea-bag once more and produced a pair of long black boots. "Hmm, nice soft leather. These are the only footwear in the bag, so let me just double-bandage your ankle cuts to minimised any rubbing as you walk along."

"Thanks Nurse."

By this time, despite the two women whispering as they went about their tasks, Harm was beginning to surface; his back was obviously causing him some grief.

Caitlin could do little about his back, but she could make him feel good about spending the night alongside her hospital bed.

"Darling, thanks for watching over me."

"My pleasure, darling wife." He yawned and began to stretch, then he winced.

"Harm, is it your back?" Caitlin had to confirm the suspicion

He nodded, then slowly stood up and straightened. Caitlin smiled gently to herself – her husband (now *that* was a comforting title!) was beginning to look as though he was truly feeling every one of his 54 years.

"Come on old man, kiss your wife and let's start the next day of the rest of our lives. I want to get back to that huge bath in the hotel."

"OK darling, I see that you've helped yourself to the clothes in the seabag, so let's go rustle up a discharge form then a taxi."

Ten minutes later, Caitlin was officially discharged and ready to return to the tranquility of the hotel. For her, the previous day was still largely a blank, but she held her husband's arm as they strolled down the hospital corridor towards the main entrance and the taxi rank.

Leaning her head on his chest, she buried her face briefly and had a five-second cry to herself. Weeping finished, she mopped her face with a tissue and stood, once more tall and proud, ready to continue life with her husband.

A stray thought broke – once more - through the fog which still swirled around the back of her mind. *Her* husband; somehow, until today that phrase had never sounded quite so comforting as it did now.

"Harm; please tell me - do I want to know what you know, about what was done to me?"

**RMRG-RMRG-RMRG-RMRG**

**End of Ch10 – "California dreamin' and a nightmare"**

**++++++++++++Cut above here for FFN Publication.**


	11. When the going gets tough, the tough

**Red Mittens and a Rose Garden – the Trisha Pike Chronicles, **

**Chapter 11 - "When the going gets tough, the tough go shopping"**

**A/N: AU. **What if there was a long-term consequence to the weekend romp between Lt Caitlin Pike and Lt Harmon Rabb Jr at that motel back in the summer of 1996? What is the responsible way to deal with an unexpected aftermath?

**A/N – link to Canon Episodes: **A "post-canon" timeline puts this into "_**JAG Season 22**_**…**" (solely for those who want to count!).

**A/N –**Today, I am once more able to draw on pleasant memories of a visit to San Diego and La Jolla in December 2019. Seems so long ago now! My grateful thanks to reader "**LTC Master Aviator USA**" for advice offered, received and incorporated into our tale.

**A/N: Publication date: 30-03-2020: **OK, a Monday bonus for my readership as I time-shift my workload around the UK's health lockdown. I wanted to get Caitlin through the trauma and ready for Christmas before I pause work on this story for a while. Harm and Caitlin *will* return as we continue Trisha Pike's second year at Annapolis. However, my other stories also need to make progress. Thanks for *all* your encouraging PMs and positive reviews.

**Notes** _**Mike, UK, 30-Mar-2020 **_

**Characters from FFNET – C Pike, H Rabb jr, Faith McBurney-Coleman plus OC**

**RMRG-RMRG-RMRG-RMRG**

**Ch11 – "When the going gets tough, the tough go shopping" **

**RMRG-RMRG-RMRG-RMRG**

**Wednesday 20th December 2017, 09:18hrs PDT **

**VIP Reception desk, Hotel del Coronado, 1500 Orange Ave, Coronado, CA 92118**

As the taxi dropped Harm and Caitlin off on their return from the hospital, the Hotel's General Manager was waiting, nervously, to welcome them back to the hotel.

"Welcome, Admiral and Mrs Rabb; I really don't know what to say in this moment..." He stuttered nervously to a halt, as Caitlin, towering over him in three-inch heels, removed her sunglasses and gazed at him. Then she switched on her full-radiance smile and watched him relax in front of her.

"It really wasn't your fault. The seeds of this were sown back in 1996 (hell, maybe even 1995!). Dennis Brockman was a disturbed, troubled, possessive, psychotic individual who managed to hide in plain sight until he exploded yesterday. You and your staff could not have known what his hang-up was, whist I just happened to be in the firing line. He has damaged us all, but that does not mean that we should be rude to each other as a consequence."

She smiled ruefully: "Hell, I worked with him for six months in the Navy and I didn't guess that he had that vicious side to him. Arrogant and awkward yes, but a decent naval officer back then."

She reached behind her for Harm's hand. Instantly, she felt the reassurance as he gripped her fingers as she continued her reply.

"Don't worry, I won't be suing your hotel – yesterday's events were just so far out of left field and both my husband and I are lawyers. We *do* have a sense of fairness however!" At the tightening of the man's nervous grin, she flashed her trademark, beautiful, heart-warming smile again. "However, there is one thing that you might do for us."

"Name it, Mrs Rabb." The man was still waiting for the other shoe to fall.

"I want a different suite – that suite has obviously been spoiled for me. Also, I require a suite with two separate bedrooms for the rest of our stay here - my daughter will be joining us, on Sunday, for Christmas. Would you be able to arrange that please?"

He sighed in relief and nodded. "Yes of course Mrs Rabb, give me a half-hour whilst we serve you a complimentary breakfast and we shall relocate all your possessions. Thank you for being so understanding."

"Well, these things happen; however, there is also one addition which you might make to the complimentary breakfast, just for me and just for today."

"Please Mrs Rabb – once more, name it."

She smiled again. "Well, I don't actually remember the taste of what I am sure was the champagne yesterday morning thanks to our Dennis the Menace. I really do only need a single glass, to check the flavour with breakfast."

The man smiled in relief. Caitlin's personality – and sense of fairness – had won him over.

"Oh, allow me to correct that in a moment – and might I additionally offer a chilled bottle on ice, in your replacement suite, every evening for the remainder of your honeymoon with us?""

Caitlin stretched out her hand. "Thank you – we have a deal!" She noticed that his eyes tracked down to her bandaged wrist.

"I also see that you will be leaving us next Wednesday after Christmas. I shall therefore be delighted to provide you with a complimentary Sunday Brunch in our Crown Room. Just contact me to name the time for your reservation."

"Thank you. That will definitely help me with my healing. I knew that the Crown Room was booked up way in advance so I simply hadn't bothered. Now, I haven't eaten since breakfast yesterday because of the excitement and the hospitalization, so please lead on."

Half a pace behind Caitlin and the hotel manager, Harm smiled to himself; this wife of his was just so confident and assured as she dealt with negotiations, despite the horrific experiences of yesterday. She was going to overcome the Dennis Brockman experience.

He just hoped that she would not slip backwards. The night time would probably be most likely for her to dive off the deep end.

**RMRG-RMRG-RMRG-RMRG**

**Wednesday 20th December 2017, 09:31hrs PDT **

**Breakfast room, Hotel del Coronado, 1500 Orange Ave, Coronado, CA 92118**

"Admiral, Mrs Rabb, we have set aside this complimentary dining alcove for you; Melissa will personally attend to your needs."

"Thank you – you have done everything that I could reasonably expect, so please relax. Now, I intend to enjoy a leisurely breakfast with my husband."

"Of course, Mrs Rabb."

Caitlin reached across the table, taking Harm's hand and caressing it. He shuddered when he saw the bandages peeking out from beneath the sleeve of her sweater.

She sensed his discomfort and squeezed his hand. "Harm, look at me. This is something that happened. It has happened and it has been dealt with. I am alive – OK, a little battered and a lot bruised. But I refuse to allow some jealous half-wit - from over two decades back, for God's sake – to have any further effect on my honeymoon, or my Christmas in California, or my life in 2018 and beyond. Now, when is Trisha due to fly out to join us?"

"Sunday morning: she's on the 07:00AM direct Alaska Airlines service from BWI, due in around 09:30hrs. RV is driving her up to Baltimore from Annapolis to save her paying to park at the airport. He seems like a good friend to her."

"Good: so we have a couple of days to continue our honeymoon – and I definitely want to go shopping in San Francisco on Thursday."

"Of course darling. Let's re-confirm the flights for tomorrow." He paused. "By the way, what's with the two bedrooms in our suite? I was holding a second reservation for Trisha."

Caitlin smiled: "Well, Mr Rabb, Mrs Rabb wants to get creative tonight – and one bed may need time to cool down!"

"Wife, did I tell you I like your thinking?"

"Not often enough husband; not often enough! Come on, let's eat."

She didn't let on to Harm that, if Dennis Brockman intruded back into her dreams, she might need a separate bedroom for a while.

She offered up a quick prayer, that the second bed would remain unused until Trisha arrived on Sunday.

**RMRG-RMRG-RMRG-RMRG**

**Wednesday 20th December 2017, 12:53hrs PDT **

**Home of Tom and Trish Rabb-Boone, Hidden Valley, La Jolla, CA 92037**

"Harm, Caitlin, what a lovely surprise. Tom told me a half-hour ago, so we've booked at the Country Club for lunch at 2PM."

"Thanks mom, I know that will be a lovely surprise for Caitlin." Harm settled into the beach chair as Tom Boone appeared with a pitcher of fresh lemonade. Over the next half-hour, Harm and Caitlin took Tom and Trish through the events of the previous day. Tom grew increasingly angry as the story progressed, finally standing up and approaching Caitlin, then holding out his arms and hauling her to her feet. Checking for her consent, he drew her to him, giving her a big hug.

"Daughter-in-law, on behalf of the overwhelming majority of decent men in this world (especially good and fine naval officers), I am sorry for that one bad apple."

"Hey 'Dad', that's OK. He's being taken care of and my husband is doing a great job of supporting me."

Tom smiled at the "Dad" title. He had come to marriage very late in life and he was truly honoured by Caitlin's appellation. Trish look on fondly at the picture of domestic harmony. She was pleased that her "new" daughter-in-law had achieved the goal of "_a good career, a good man and lots of shoes_." She had already heard Harm bemoaning Caitlin's appetite for shoes (most of which, in fairness, she purchased on her own dollar).

Caitlin stood up, reaching into her handbag for her smartphone. She looked at Harm. "I reckon it's time to bring our daughter up to speed."

She looked at Trish and Tom. "Guys, I may be a while." She strolled away, phone pressed to her ear.

"_Hey darling, time for a Mommy chat…_"

**RMRG-RMRG-RMRG-RMRG**

A leisurely lunch at the Country Club eventually saw Harm and Caitlin returning to their hotel around 7PM. Harm handed over the keys for their rental to the valet, then led Caitlin gently up through the hotel to their replacement suite.

**RMRG-RMRG-RMRG-RMRG**

**Wednesday 20th December 2017, 19:11hrs PDT **

**Victoria suite, Hotel del Coronado, 1500 Orange Ave, Coronado, CA 92118**

They stopped outside the door to their suite. He handed her the key and looked, seriously, into her eyes. "Darling, this is part of *your* regaining control. Remember that I love you."

"Always, darling Harm." She kissed his cheek then, inserting the key into the reader, she opened the door and entered the suite, making a bee-line for the ice bucket by the flower display on the central table. She picked up the card on the vase of flowers and read it:

"_**From the management team, with regrets matched to hopes for the rest of your stay with us**_".

"Oh Harm, that is wonderful." The ice bucket contained both a half-bottle and a full bottle.

"Yes it is: they could not have possibly known about Dennis and his obsessions when they employed him after he left the Navy, so I think this closes the incident."

"Yep: I guess that NCIS will follow up at some point? Oh, how was Trisha when you spoke with her?"

"Well, she got a bit frantic at first, but we have produced a very level-headed young woman and she soon calmed down. She is looking forward to flying out on Sunday to join her '_new West Coast family_' for Christmas and spending time with her dad. Did I tell you that she has managed to book a seat on our return flight back to BWI on the 28th?"

She frowned: "I'm sure NCIS will be in contact at some point, but only when they get more. The DA will be involved in charging. It may take some time."

She took his hand and kissed him slowly and deeply before continuing. She knew that her Harmon would be brooding slightly over the Dennis case. "Look Harm, Dennis may well not face trial – they may send him straight to the Psych ward, I suspect. But that is something for NCIS, SDPD and the DA."

He kissed her slowly and passionately, delaying her continued reply. Eventually Kate drew back slightly, licking her lips and smiling warmly. "Well, we shall just have to support them as required. Come on husband, there is a bottle of champagne that I need to sample."

"And then, my daring Caitlin, we need to sleep ready for the flights tomorrow."

He looked at her, admiring his wife's svelte figure as she knelt beside the table to pick up the champagne cork from the floor.

"Darling? Tell me about this corsetiere again in San Francisco."

"Well Harm, I actually blame my mother, whom my Dad described as a "_straight-laced accountant_…"

**RMRG-RMRG-RMRG-RMRG**

**Thursday 21st December 2017, 12:45hrs PDT **

**Dark Garden Corsetry, 321 Linden St, San Francisco, CA 94102**

"Mrs Rabb? Welcome to Dark Garden. We specialize in getting to know our clients, their needs and desires, to produce the perfect experience."

Caitlin smiled. "Well, that certainly fits with the reviews that I have been reading. Oh Harm, you'll find the waiting room through there. This may take some time." She smiled, sending Harm off to fly a holding pattern. He nodded gracefully, acquiescing to her request and realising, gratefully, that the timing of this trip, so soon after the Dennis attack, might actually be very good for both of them.

"Now then which style did you have on mind, Mrs Rabb?"

"Actually, I want to buy into three of your styles…"

"Well, we can certainly design any corset you require, so let's get started on your measurements. The robing room is through there."

A few minutes later, as the tape measure was ready to start running across her chest, the corsetiere asked her to take off her boots to stand straight – "the posture is important for this first corset which we shall be constructing for you. Standing flat on the floor helps us gauge the relative positions and alignment of your ribcage, spine and hips."

Unheeding of the bandages on her ankles, Caitlin unzipped her boots and stood on the warm carpet. Absent-mindedly, she itched the bandage on her left wrist, dislodging the dressing and revealing the raw, ugly bruise. The corsetiere gasped, looking at the angry bruises on her wrist and assessing the bandages on her ankles.

"Mrs Rabb, I didn't have you down as being interested in *that" type of play! I hope that your master will be more careful in future."

"My master?" Caitlin smiled back, disarming the woman's concerns as she realised what the woman had assumed about her cuff marks.

She smiled apologetically as she turned her wrists over, showing the bruising as she decided how to explain the circumstances to the corsetiere. "Sadly not – that was neither consensual nor planned. I am a lawyer and retired Naval officer – a case from the past blew up yesterday, however I survived and this was an assault which the police and Naval detectives are dealing with."

She looked at the corsetiere. "It won't affect my future life – but I *am* aware of '_safe, sane and consensual_' and you clearly appreciate *that* lifestyle?"

"Yes indeed. It's just that Leatherworks (here in San Francisco) produce some lovely, comfortable restraints if your master wanted to…" The corsetiere paused, twitching the sleeves of her blouse – which only drew Caitlin's attention to the stainless-steel bracelets on the woman's wrists as the woman continued. "But maybe this is not your scene, Mrs Rabb?"

Caitlin merely smiled and nodded, stretching out her arms so that measuring might continue. Her mind was buzzing: this could be a *very* interesting trip to San Francisco! The corsetiere had lifted the veil on a whole different lifestyle.

An hour later, she had been fully measured and had ordered the products which she required. A follow-up fitting had been arranged for early February – to tie in with when she and Harm were planning on flying out for a weekend either side of Valentine's Day (which would fall on a Wednesday in 2018). The Amex Black Card had suffered another hammering!

Collecting Harm from the waiting room, she ushered him to the waiting taxi for the trip back to SFO for their return flight down to San Diego. As they settled into the cab, he looked at her, inquisitively.

"Everything went well I presume, darling? Did you learn anything of interest?"

"Oh yes Harm - more than I expected and more than you will know."

A strange smile rippled across Caitlin's lips as the taxi sped away towards the airport.

**RMRG-RMRG-RMRG-RMRG**

**Sunday 24th December 2017, 05:38hrs EDT **

**Alaska Airlines Checkin Concourse, BWI Thurgood Marshall Airport, 7050 Friendship Rd Baltimore, MD 21240**

"OK, here you go, Alaska Airlines, just over the curb. Fly safe Trisha."

Trisha smiled at RV as she tilted the front seat to access the rear seat, where her luggage was sitting. "Thanks so much RV, I really appreciate this."

"Well, we Horsemen need to stick together. Hey, getting up early to run you to the airport had another upside for me - it meant that I had a reason to drop out of that pizza eating contest last night."

Trisha snagged her backpack and travelling suitcase from the back seat of RV's car, then tilted the seat back into its position and reached into the car to shake his hand.

She then changed her mind, and on an impulse she leaned right into the cockpit and kissed him gently on his cheek. She wiped her red lipstick carefully off his cheek and then, to his surprised expression, she smiled and simply said "I wanted to try that, just once, ahead of the next 30 months of chastity. I'll see you in the new year; thanks Randolph". Flashing a big smile at him, she stepped back from the car and headed into the terminal, ready for a trip to the warmth of California and a Christmas vacation with her parents.

RV sat there, half in shock, until the stressed driver behind him leaned on the horn button of their car. Waving apologetically, RV slotted his car into gear and pulled away.

"Mama _mia - the Admiral's daughter just kissed me! Caramba, this could be an interesting second half of our year coming up._"

Wiping a hand down his cheek, he could still detect the musk of her perfume.

He didn't even want to think about the following two years after the summer break!

This was going to test the Annapolis Honour code: but he was a Marine - and Trisha, if nothing else, was clear that she wanted to complete her studies.

What was his father going to say?

Probably something like: "_Admiral Rabb's daughter?! Are you mad?_"

All of a sudden, Randy Galindez knew the answer to that hypothetical question. Slowly, he began phrasing the letter to his parents in his head as he headed south, back to Annapolis.

**RMRG-RMRG-RMRG-RMRG**

**Sunday 24th December 2017, 09:57hrs PDT **

**Alaska Airlines Arrivals, Terminal One, San Diego Airport, CA 94102**

"OK, her plane landed 25 minutes ago, so she should be out any minute. Wasn't it nice of RV to run her up to BWI this morning? She mentioned that he was laying off the pizza at last night's dorm party for those staying in Annapolis over Christmas, so he would sleep well and be alert to drive her this morning."

"Well, Caitlin, his father was always dependable as well, when he served at JAG HQ."

"There she is - "TRISHA!"

Caitlin's height enabled her to spot her daughter. Likewise, Caitlin standing alongside Harm made it very easy for Trisha to spot her parents as she emerged from the secure area with a backpack on her shoulder and a wheeled suitcase following behind her. She dropped both as she arrived in front of her parents.

"Hey Mom; hi Dad."

As was her custom, she reached out to grasp her mom's wrists as she leaned in for a kiss. She was perturbed by Caitlin's unexpected whimper of discomfort and the downturn of her mom's mouth. Bending her knees, Caitlin sank down slightly, grimacing in pain. Concerned, Harm hooked a supportive arm around her waist, smiling reassuringly at Trisha.

"Mom, what's wrong; are you in pain?" She looked across at her father for clarification.

Even through a leather jacket and a sweater, it was clear that Caitlin's bruised wrists were still causing her trouble. Breathing deeply, she recovered and drew herself back up to her full height, smiling at her daughter.

"Darling, you just caught me unawares: I'm fine, really."

Trisha raised an enigmatic eyebrow, as it to say "Like heck you are. Mom."

Caitlin leaned in and kissed her daughter's cheek.

"Come on, your dad and I will explain in the car. Let's get under way to the parking lot and then back to our suite."

As the car pulled away from the lot, Caitlin gave Trisha a short version of what had happened with Dennis Brockman. Relieved, Trisha leaned forward, looking at the bandages now visible on her mom's wrist as Caitlin drove the rental car towards the hotel. She placed a hand on Harm's shoulder - she needed her dad's advice on another matter.

"Dad, when you and Diane - Schanke, was it? - were at the Academy, did you ever cross the line of the honour code as a couple?"

"Wow, darling, that's a question which should wait for the end of your fourth year in the Academy. OK, let me answer that."

He marshalled his thoughts before replying. Caitlin looked intently at their daughter's worried visage in the rearview mirror.

"Well no, Diane Schonke and I always followed the rules. Indeed, on the weekend that she was killed, we had planned to go up to her parents' cabin and talk through our future as we moved forward into the '_beyond just good friends_' phase in our relationship." He sighed: "It was just never to be. But no, we waited and we observed the Honour Code as midshipmen in the Academy."

"OK, thanks Dad."

Looking across at Harm, Caitlin pulled the car across into a shopping mall car park, rolled the car into a space, then stopped and shifted into "Park", setting the parking brake. She turned round to look at her daughter.

"Trisha, is there something you need to tell us, baby girl? You're not pregnant or anything like that, are you?"

"Hell No Mom - you brought me up *way* too well for that to happen, and anyway I'm still a... never mind!" She blushed and took a deep breath before continuing. "No, it's just that I did something impulsive at the airport this morning when RV dropped me off..."

"OK, tell mommy and daddy." Caitlin reached out a supportive hand towards Trisha.

"Well, I was grateful for him running me up so BWI, so..."

**RMRG-RMRG-RMRG-RMRG**

**End of Ch11 – "When the going gets tough, the tough go shopping"**

**++++++++++++Cut above here for FFN Publication.**


	12. La Jolla Christmas: honest conversations

**Red Mittens and a Rose Garden – the Trisha Pike Chronicles, **

**Ch12 – "La Jolla Christmas: honest conversations" **

**A/N: AU. **What if there was a long-term consequence to the weekend romp between Lt Caitlin Pike and Lt Harmon Rabb Jr at that motel back in the summer of 1996? What is the responsible way to deal with an unexpected aftermath?

**A/N – link to Canon Episodes:** "A New Life" (S01Ep01 - pilot – parts 1&2 first broadcast 23-Sep-1995): "Crossing the Line" (S02Ep05 first broadcast 31-Jan-1997); A "post-canon" timeline puts this into "**_JAG Season 23_…**" (solely for those who want to count!).

**A/N –**Today, I am once more able to draw on pleasant memories of a visit to San Diego and La Jolla in December 2019. Seems so long ago now!

**A/N: Publication date: 31-03-2020: Five chapters in five days will stand as my record: enjoy!** I also know, from other reviews and some of your very kind and supportive PMs, that my other stories also need to make progress despite current problems in the production process. Thanks for *all* your encouraging PMs and positive reviews..

**Notes** **_Mike, UK, 31-Mar-2020 _**

**Characters from FFNET – C Pike, H Rabb jr, Faith McBurney-Coleman plus OC**

**RMRG-RMRG-RMRG-RMRG**

**Ch12 – "La Jolla Christmas: honest conversations" **

**RMRG-RMRG-RMRG-RMRG**

**Sunday 24th December 2017, 11:49hrs PDT **

**Home of Tom and Trish Rabb-Boone, Hidden Valley, La Jolla, CA 92037**

"Darlings, you made it. Welcome Trisha, I am so pleased that you are with us for Christmas." The two name-sakes, sharing a name and united despite the 60-plus-year age gap, embraced.

"Harm, Caitlin, do you want to swim?" The pool is perfect and the beach should be quiet this afternoon."

Caitlin looked at Harm. "Well, I guess that salt water would be good for my wounds – even if it stings a bit!" Harm nodded. "Yep, just a short drive down Torrey Pines Road and we'll be on the beach."

He looked to the southeast, where the huge Veterans Monument on top of Mount Soledad made its statement against a gin-clear sky. "The weather looks set fair; come on then Caitlin, let's get you into the Pacific."

She smiled. "Yes - lead on husband, let's hit the beach."

As Tom Boone watched the newlyweds head off, he cast his mind back to a different time – the USS Seahawk in '95 and the investigation into what turned out to be the murder of Lt Angela Arutti. Even then, he had spotted that Lt Caitlin Pike had the spirit and spunk to stand up to Harm and to complement his investigative skills with her technology skills and determined manner. The fact that they had gotten "down and dirty" the next year didn't surprise the old sea-dog. He had seen the evident attraction between the two lieutenants.

Tom had never seen Harm so happy, even when he appeared on the carrier again, accompanied by Major Sarah "Mac" Mackenzie (who was later to become Harm's doomed first wife). That 1997 visit to the Seahawk was in connection with the investigation into Lt Marilynn Isaacs (and the subsequent tragedy of the funeral pyre of her F-14, when Harm had rescued Elizabeth "Skates" Hawkes from going through the screws as her parachute dragged her to the edge of the flight-deck). He sighed, thinking back over the memory: if only Isaacs had gone back to shore-based training and improved her aviator skills, rather than "gaming the system" as he considered it. _Ah hell, no point in crying over spilled Jet-A1_.

Trisha was already deep in conversation with Trish when her parents popped into the kitchen to announce their swimming plans.

"Dad. Mom, I'm happy to stay with my grandparents; you two go off and get wet."

As Harm and Caitlin powered up the old dune buggy and set off for the beach, Trisha's resolve faltered for a second. It was Tom Boone who picked it up. Uncertain as to handle his "adopted" 20-year-old "grand-daughter", he played it straight.

"Now you, young lady, look like someone who found a dollar bill then realised it was only a single. Is there anything that a grumpy retired admiral can help a young Academy midshipman with?"

He expected a laugh; he anticipated a gentle smack on the shoulder with a reproach of "_idiot!_". What he did not expect was Trisha Pike to crumple onto his shoulder, weeping bitter tears. Concerned, Trish Rabb-Boone joined them, rubbing Trisha's shoulders gently.

"Wow, something is stressing you. How may we help?"

Tom realised that Trisha's eyes, even blood-shot from crying, were a straight-line inheritance from Caitlin.

"Oh Tom, I've walked into a situation back east and I don't know what to do."

The three of them strolled to the coffee table on the verandah and sat down. Tom and Trish each took one of Trisha's hands, patting it gently. Her tears faded to snuffles and she looked at them in turn.

Tom opened the discussion.

"First off, do your mom and dad know about this?"

She nodded.

"OK, is it something that happened at the Academy?" Tom asked with a growing sense of unease. He had graduated from the Academy at a time when women were merely on the periphery and easily-available around the town. That's just how it had been in those days.

She shook her head. "Oh no Tom, nothing bad has happened, if that's what was worrying you."

Tom relaxed as she continued. "But yes it involves the Academy."

Tom and Trish sat quietly, allowing Trisha to work through the problem in her own time.

"There's a boy – well, obviously a young man. We're in the same intake although he is (I reckon) a year younger because I did the year out with MSF."

"You're attracted?" Trish led the questions. Trisha nodded.

"We met – formally – at the Hallowe'en Ball; he has the most gorgeous deep brown eyes and he hails from New Mexico. We went out for a coffee on the Saturday after the dance and he has now joined the original Four Horsemen (four of us who met up and have grown together from Day One). He is the fifth Horseman – I met him, introduced him to the other three and it was unanimous – Tony, Anna and Tom all took to him straight away. By the same token, we have also adopted Tony's '_girl-(pause)-friend_' Samantha who is in the Academy intake year ahead of all of us."

Tom ignored the deviation from the biblical Apocalypse analogy of just four horsemen, then he concentrated on listening to his "grand-daughter" as she continued her story.

He gently asked: "So the problem is…?"

"Oh Granddad, he is just perfect; a perfect gentlemen, a perfect officer – and he has all the hallmarks of making a perfect Marine when he graduates alongside me in May 2020."

"But…?"

"I did a silly thing this morning at BWI. He had gotten up early to drive me to the airport: iot was such a lovely helpful thing to do. When we got to the curbside, I grabbed my bags and then…" she paused.

Tom and Trish could only wait until Trisha resumed.

"… then I kissed him. Oh God, I've played it over and over, on the flight and since I landed. What *was* I thinking?" The tears began again.

Tom patted her hand. "Trisha, you've broken no rules. This was a kiss on the cheek I presume in public, not a full-on four-course dinner with tonsil-hockey to finish?"

Trish looked at her third husband, impressed at his turn of phrase. Sometimes, even after six years of marriage, Tom Boone could still surprise her! "_You can take the man out of the Navy, but_…"

Trisha looked perplexed. "Yes of course Granddad; I was leaning across the car, one foot on the pavement like a 1950s Hollywood film that complies with the Hayes code. I was also slightly off-balance in a way. So I aimed for – and hit perfectly – his nearest cheek."

"Well, I cannot see a problem; you were thanking a colleague for getting up early and driving you to your plane." He shrugged. "OK, I wouldn't kiss my bunk-mate, but you are two heterosexual teenagers so…" Suddenly, looking at Trisha as she chewed her lip, the penny dropped for Tom.

"Oh shit – you wanted more?"

She nodded, blushing crimson.

"A lot more?"

Another shy, virginal nod, embarrassed at how her hormones were betraying and undermining her sense of "honour" and "duty" as a USNA midshipman.

"And so did he?"

"Actually I don't know Grandpa, but he looked shocked and then I noticed, as I walked into the terminal, that his car didn't move until someone started honking their horn. So I assume yes."

"OK: so bluntly, looking at this so far, we have '_no foul and no harm_' so far – yes?" Tom was reassuring, whilst Trish smiled encouragingly.

"Yes, I know, but can I wait 881 days and nights?"

"Huh? Tom Boone's brain failed to follow that piece of mathematical contortion.

"Err – why 881 days – and nights?" Both he and Trish looked perplexed.

"Trisha looked sheepishly at her grandfather. "Err, because that takes us to Sunday morning 23rd May 2020 – the morning after graduation at Annapolis."

For once, she smiled conspiratorially. "I ran the mathematics on the plane!"

"OH!" For both grandparents, the penny dropped – and they laughed! Relaxing finally, Trisha joined in with her grandparents.

"Ah, you mean 2020 as in the morning after you are released from the Honour code as midshipmen – even graduating as 'firsties' in your final year at USNA?"

"Yep." She smiled – slightly sheepishly - for the first time in a while.

"Jeez Trisha, that's over 30 months away. A lot could change."

"Yep I know that Grandma; but somehow I reckon that I have found '_The One_' and I just don't know what to do next."

"Well, young lady, the first thing we are going to do is wait for your parents to come back, then we are going to devise a plan of action in a Family Conference." She patted her hand. "Come on, let's go squeeze some oranges for the drinks later."

"OK grandma."

**RMRG-RMRG-RMRG-RMRG**

**Sunday 24th December 2017, 13:25hrs PDT **

**Beachfront La Jolla, CA 92037**

"Oh lord Harm, this is just *so*beautiful."

Harm and Caitlin were sitting on the low beach wall in front of the Life Guard lookout building, halfway along the palm-tree lined beachfront promenade at La Jolla and looking out into the Pacific as they held hands. They had parked the dune-buggy two rows back, then strolled hand-in-hand through the parked cars to the promenade, stepping through the gap in the low wall onto the sand.

"Now, I've got the spare sterile dressings and there are clean towels in this backpack, so let's get you to the tidal edge and then we'll get the old dressing off and get you into the water."

"Sure thing Harm." Caitlin quickly tied her hair up into a ponytail, then slipped off her sundress to reveal a bright red one-piece bathing suit. Harm – as always – liked what he saw.

"OK Harm, if you're not coming in, I'm going to splash around for a whole and – OH GOD!"

Caitlin had absentmindedly swept her left wrist through the salt water as she walked out into deeper water. This had been most-damaged in her semi-conscious struggling when Dennis Brockman had restrained her five days before. Salt water – as more than 600 burned British fighter pilots had discovered in Archibald McIndoe's "Guinea-Pig Club" in the early 1940s – was effective at promoting the healing of damaged skin, but at a price - a stinging sensation on first contact!

Caitlin stuck it for almost 15 minutes, swimming around under the water, before heading back towards dry land and her husband. She headed for one of the public showerheads, to wash off the worst of the salt.

"OK Harm, let's go back and see what our daughter has managed to stir up with her grandparents."

"Yes; I like the way that Tom Boone has been able to settle into the 'Grandfather' role."

**RMRG-RMRG-RMRG-RMRG**

**Sunday 24th December 2017, 14:43hrs Mountain Standard Time **

**Youth Centre, San Miguel de la Alto Chaparral, Gallup, NM, CA 87301**

"_Digame_!"

"_Felice Navidad, Mama_."

"Let me hand you across to your father; Victor! It is Randolfo!"

The commanding tones of Victor Galindez came onto the telephone line.

"Randolfo; _felice navidad_. How are things at the Academy?"

"Well, papa, everything is fine and everything is going well; but I need your advice. I think I have met a girl."

"Well, either you have met or you haven't – so…?"

"OK, papa, I *have* met a girl."

"OK, is she local?"

"Yes, very local – as in the female midshipmen's dormitory here in Annapolis."

"Randolfo, you are trying to date another middy? You know the honour code? Are you mad?"

"Yes dammit papa - I know all of that - and it is tearing me up inside. I just don't know what to do."

Victor calmed down; obviously his son wanted advice – just like the scores of troubled young men who had benefitted from the Galindez Youth Support Scheme.

"OK, tell your papa."

"She is in my year, a Squid and an Anglo. Papa, she is so intelligent and witty and bright and tall and beautiful and graceful…"

"Oh boy, you have it bad. How far have you gone?"

"Papa! Nowhere – at all! As you know, we are bound by the honour code; she has the potential to reach great heights. She is the middy who climbed the Herndon Monument this year."

"Ah yes, I read about this. So, you have picked a lively woman – a choice which did your old father no harm at all!"

"Papa, please listen. When I dropped her at BWI this morning, she leaned into the car to thank me – and - she kissed my cheek."

"OK, that's allowed I guess. So if you were dropping her at BWI, where are her parents?"

"Ah, that's where it gets tricky. Although her parents live locally to the Academy, she's joining them out at their family base in La Jolla."

"As in California? I remember one of my old JAG lawyers coming from there. I think he made Admiral eventually… Anyway, what are your plans for this new lady of yours, who has quite clearly made an impression on you, my son?"

"Well papa, before I go there, there is something else that you need to know."

Across the miles, Victor Galindez sounded perplexed. "What else, son?"

Half a continent away, RV winced before continuing: "Well, I haven't told you who her father is yet…"

**RMRG-RMRG-RMRG-RMRG**

**End of Ch12 – "La Jolla Christmas: honest conversations"**

**++++++++++++Cut above here for FFN Publication.**


	13. Heading home with a flight plan

**Red Mittens and a Rose Garden – the Trisha Pike Chronicles, **

**Ch13 – "Heading home with a flight plan" **

**A/N: AU. **What if there was a long-term consequence to the weekend romp between Lt Caitlin Pike and Lt Harmon Rabb Jr at that motel back in the summer of 1996? What is the responsible way to deal with an unexpected aftermath?

**A/N – link to Canon Episodes:** A "post-canon" timeline puts this into "**_JAG Season 23_****…**" (solely for those who want to count!).

**A/N – 02-Apr-2020. **Name error fixed overnight, with thanks to my (sadly anonymous) guest reviewer.

**A/N: Publication date: 01-04-2020:** Thanks for *all* your encouraging PMs and positive reviews.

**Notes** **_Mike, UK, 01-Apr-2020 _**

**Characters from FFNET – C Pike, H Rabb jr, Faith McBurney-Coleman plus OC**

**RMRG-RMRG-RMRG-RMRG**

**Ch13 – "Heading home with a flight plan" **

**RMRG-RMRG-RMRG-RMRG**

**Wednesday 27th December 2017, 20:54hrs EDT**

**Penthouse suite, 210 E Fairfax St, Falls Church, VA 22046:**

Harm, Caitlin and Trisha dumped their bags behind the settee in the lounge of Caitlin's penthouse and then settled down to recover from the eastbound flights back from San Diego.

"Well, it was great to see Grandma Trish and Grandpa Tom, but I – for one – am truly glad to be home" announced Trisha.

"Amen to that, daughter" replied Harm, with a groan as he levered himself upright and headed for the kitchen to warm a pan of milk.

Caitlin played the messages from the answerphone – there was nothing of importance. With a quiet Thursday and Friday ahead, leading into the New Years weekend, she did not plan on waking up very early on any remaining morning of the week. Her wounds were beginning to itch, which was a good sign of recovery.

"Now, does anyone else need to be up early on the next five mornings?" she enquired. Harm and Trisha looked at each other for confirmation, then looked back at Caitlin and shook their heads in unison.

"No, Faith McBurney-Coleman is running the show until January 2nd so I don't need to think about the Academy."

"OK then; so Harm, how about us flying 'Sarah' tomorrow or Friday?"

"Oh wow, yes please Dad." Trisha was like a child awaiting a second Christmas. She had seen the photographs of "Sarah" in Harm's office - along with the model Stearman on his bookcase in his study in the Superintendent's apartment at USNA. This would be her first time to really feel the wind in her hair behind a radial engine and big wooden propeller.

Harm smiled. "OK, but first you have to work your passage."

Trisha shrugged. "OK fair enough Dad; what do we need to do?"

"Well, *we* are not doing anything; your mother is going to continue to recuperate, after last week." He looked at Caitlin. "Darling, I saw your discomfort on the airliner and how you unzipped your left boot twice to rub the bandage. You need to be able to get those bandages off, keep them off and leave your skin exposed to the air: it will ensure that your cuts keep healing faster."

She pouted, then saluted her husband. "OK Admiral, you win – but only because I agree with you and fortunately I have good healing skin. Home I shall stay, obediently awaiting my lord and master."

A glint in her eyes indicated that she had come up with an idea for how she might welcome her husband home the next evening. During the daytime, she would be spending her time behind a locked door, with her .44 Magnum within reach and well away from the Dennis Brockmans of this world! She was so glad that their daughter would be spending some "Daddy" time alone with her father to continue their bonding.

Harm was outlining the activities planned. "OK Trisha, tomorrow at the airfield we'll do an oil change and change out the plugs. Then as a reward for your hard work, on Friday you will get to fly both morning and afternoon and I shall spring for lunch in between the flights – I reckon that's a fair exchange for mechanic duties?" he enquired.

She eagerly nodded, then asked her question. "Dad, how far is it to this airfield where you keep 'Sarah' in her hangar?"

"Oh, just about six miles from the Academy; WSW out on Maryland route 2, along Solomons Island Road then hang a right 300ft past Starbucks. Driving from here, it's about 44 miles near-enough due-east – say an hour including a coffee stop along the route - OK?"

"Yep dad, just fine."

Trisha Pike was looking forward to spending a day in the fresh air with her dad. It could very well provide the opportunity to discuss her dilemma regarding "RV", with the Admiral when he was definitely off-duty and just her Dad. With the chance of some "stick time" in the Stearman on the Friday, the next few days were looking up!

"Roll on Thursday" she thought as she headed off to her bed.

**RMRG-RMRG-RMRG-RMRG**

**Thursday 28th December 2017, 07:58hrs EDT**

**Penthouse suite, 210 E Fairfax St, Falls Church, VA 22046:**

"Now, are you sure that you'll be safe darling?"

Caitlin had just finished field-stripping her .44" Magnum sidearm. Reassembling it expertly, she slammed in a magazine, chambered a round (pointing the weapon well clear of her family members) then set the safety catch and laid the weapon on her coffee table. "Oh yeah. Look Harm, I am already well on the road to healing and it has been just over a week with good medical care. Now, go take our daughter and go do Daddy things with her."

Caitlin, bare-foot and bare-legged in the apartment, was attempting to push Harm towards the door, where Trisha waited with a seabag from which several pairs of overalls protruded.

"Mom, I'll get him back for 17:00hrs – it will be effectively dark by 1530hrs anyway" promised Trisha.

"Good – and I shall have the meal on the table for 1800hrs. Oh, would you pick up some wine please? Ideally red, to complement the Spaghetti Bolognese and the Mushroom Risotto that I'll be preparing."

"Wilco. Come on Daddy, leg's go play with your toy."

Harm snorted. "Toy, indeed." he winked at his wife as he closed the penthouse door.

**RMRG-RMRG-RMRG-RMRG**

**Thursday 28th December 2017, 09:23hrs EDT**

**Lee Airport-ANP, 3090 Solomons Island Rd, Edgewater, MD 21037:**

"Now, second hangar on the right and look for a Stearman."

"Yes Dad – I would guess it's the one decked out as a US Navy trainer in bright yellow?"

"Correct, daughter – now, let's go find the hangar manager."

Half an hour later, clad in their overalls, Trisha and Harm were hard at work changing the sump oil in the Wright Cyclone engine, prior to refilling it and moving on to replace the sparking plugs.

"So Trisha, what are your plans for this young man?"

"Entirely honourable, Dad." Then she blushed: "Well, at least for the next 877 days and nights! "

Just like Tom Boone a few days earlier, Harm needed help to understand the mathematics.

"Wow, that's a very precise number – what does it represent?"

"Well Dad, that takes us to the morning of Sunday 23rd May 2020 – the morning after RV and I will have graduated on Saturday May 22nd." She smiled, licking her lips. All too soon, Harm was having visions of Caitlin, over 20 years previously, licking her lips in anticipation of their next physical coupling on that bed where… Suddenly, Harm knew that Caitlin had raised a very level-headed young woman - and Trisha was, now, definitely a woman, making choices about her body and her life. He suddenly felt very proud - and just a little old!

"Well, that gives you 30 months to plan an approach, keep your distance, then work out if this is an attraction - or just a fling and a flash in the pan - or the start of a deep, meaningful and loving life together." He placed his hands on her shoulders. "Darling Trisha, know that, whatever you eventually decide, your mom and I will support your decision."

She laid her head on his chest. "Thanks Dad. That means a lot. OK, that's the last plug: do you want to fire her up?"

Harm smiled. "Well, how about the Marine Engineering apprentice gets to fire up the mechanism?"

"Oh yeah, thanks Dad!" Caitlin hopped around the wing to the port wing root, awaiting directions on how to mount the plane.

**RMRG-RMRG-RMRG-RMRG**

"OK, I'll run you through the full set of controls tomorrow before we fly her, but for today, you need to know about these controls..."

Ten minutes later, after drawing fuel through the feed lines, there was a throaty roar (and not a little smoke as the pistons cleared the accumulated oil out into the exhaust valves) as "Sarah" burst once more into life. The ground check was complete.

By 1430hrs, the remaining work was complete, "Sarah" was ready to fly - and Trisha was ready to head home with her Dad.

It had been a good day.

**RMRG-RMRG-RMRG-RMRG**

**End of Ch13 – "Heading home with a flight plan"**

**++++++++++++Cut above here for FFN Publication.**


	14. Flying with my father

**Red Mittens and a Rose Garden – the Trisha Pike Chronicles, **

**Ch14 – "Flying with my father" **

**A/N: AU. **What if there was a long-term consequence to the weekend romp between Lt Caitlin Pike and Lt Harmon Rabb Jr at that motel back in the summer of 1996? What is the responsible way to deal with an unexpected aftermath?

**A/N – link to Canon Episodes:** A "post-canon" timeline puts this into "_**JAG Season 23**_**…**" (solely for those who want to count!).

**A/N - **Thursday evening 02-04-2020: My "_observant reader_" prize goes to "Inkysplatt1" for spotting my deliberate mistake with the food served to the vegetarian Harm! Well spotted. At this pace of chapter production, it may be time for a rest. Also "Sarai" for spotting a naming error.

**A/N: Publication date: 02-04-2020:** Thanks for *all* your encouraging PMs and positive reviews.

**Notes** _**Mike, UK, 02-Apr-2020 – it was a lovely flying day today in northern England...**_

**Characters from FFNET – C Pike, H Rabb jr, Faith McBurney-Coleman plus OC**

**RMRG-RMRG-RMRG-RMRG**

**Ch14 – "Flying with my father"**

**RMRG-RMRG-RMRG-RMRG**

**Thursday 28th December 2017, 17:18hrs EDT**

**Penthouse suite, 210 E Fairfax St, Falls Church, VA 22046:**

"OK, has everybody washed up ready to eat? Come and eat before I throw it to the cats!"

Caitlin delivered the two steaming containers to the large cork mat in the middle of the dining table, with tongs to pick up the spaghetti and a ladle for the Spaghetti Bolognese mixture. Half a pace behind her mother, Trisha brought out a plate piled high with garlic bread, along with the Mushroom Risotto for her father.

Harm had opened the bottle of Cabernet Merlot from the _Henry of Pelham_ winery – one of the 30 Canadian wineries to occupy the Canadian side of the Niagara Falls region on the far side of the Rainbow Bridge where the two great North American countries touched. He had first encountered the wine in the Ruth's Chris steakhouse in the PATH network beneath the Hilton Hotel in Toronto and the memory of the wine had stayed with him. A favoured wine shop in DC had provided him with a regular supply of his favourite wines, over the years.

Half an hour in a decanter had prepared the wine for consumption – although it would continue to improve as the evening wore on. Caitlin's eyes widened as the full flavours of the wine hit her palate. "Good – oh wow, that hits the spot." The large wine glasses which Tom and Trish had given them as a wedding present were being put to good use.

Across the table, Harm served the first plate of spaghetti, then passed it by Trisha to load up with the meat sauce mix. A little sprinkle of grated Parmesan cheese completed each plate.

Silence descended on the table for a while. The day spent working in the fresh air up at Lee Airfield had definitely sharpened Harm's and Trisha's appetites. Within 12 minutes of service, there was no spaghetti and only a smidgeon of the sauce remaining. The decanter was halfway empty as well.

Trisha turned to her dad. "OK, so for tomorrow's flight, what will we be wearing? I'm guessing that an open cockpit, behind a large propeller, ain't going to be particularly warm, Dad?"

"No, you are right. OK, we'll need warm clothing. I normally start with long-johns and I should have warned you beforehand."

Caitlin piped up from her chair. "Trisha, if you wear your jodhpurs from your riding classes, with some long winter-weight hose underneath, you can probably layer up."

"Mom, that sounds good, but I have a better idea if we keep your plan in reserve."

"OK, what's the idea Trisha?"

"Retail therapy: I want to buy some thermal underwear!

She looked across and smiled at Harm. "Come on: Dad, bring your credit card!"

**RMRG-RMRG-RMRG-RMRG**

**Thursday 28th December 2017, 18:55hrs EDT**

**Old Navy Store, ****5800 Crossroads Cir bldg b, Falls Church, VA 22041**

"See, all done – and now I know that I shall never be cold on sea duty". Trisha Pike was happily carrying her purchases towards Harm's Lexus. Caitlin unlocked the car from the front seat, where she had sat with a book whilst Harm and Trisha had dashed into the store

"So, what is the inventory?" Caitlin was interested.

"OK, long-johns and vests, sports bra, thin polo-neck sweater and two pullovers. The jodhpurs will be great but I wonder if the new long-johns will be scratchy underneath them."

Caitlin turned around in her seat, to look across at Trisha "No problem, I shall dig out a pair of my old support hose."

"Mom, didn't you wear those when you were pregnant with me?"

"Yes, and they helped keep my legs in perfect shape, so you can follow the family tradition. I don't think that, with all these layers, your Dad will need to switch on the heater in his car tomorrow."

"OK, I also have a scarf for my neck and a woolly hat back in the apartment. Now, I guess that my feet will be cold."

"No problem, wear a pair of sports socks over the socks which you normally wear inside your riding boots." Caitlin was slowly wrapping up their daughter in a wind-proof set of clothing.

As Caitlin and Trisha ran through their wardrobe list, Harm spotted a problem. "Hang on Trisha, if you are thinking of riding boots, they are not flexible enough around the ankles to operate the rudder." He looked at Caitlin, pointing to her ankles. "She'll need flexibility."

"Well that, Mr Tomcat man, is where you are historically not quite correct." Caitlin was delighted to know a piece of aviation history which had passed Harm by - and she embarked upon her history lesson.

"In 1918, the British Royal Flying Corps (which as you might expect was largely staffed by ex-cavalry officers) had the same problem. They designed long, front-laced boots which therefore had flexible ankles. Twenty years later, they worked for Amelia Earhardt." She stood up: "And I think that I may have something suitable in the back of the wardrobe. Come on Trisha."

Trisha padded barefoot behind her mom. Squatting cross-legged (so as to protect her healing ankles), Caitlin began digging out boxes from the rear of her deep wardrobe. It only took her two minutes before she held up a long cardboard box with a cry of triumph. "Yes, got them!"

Opening the box, she paused. "Drat, those are the brown ones!" she exclaimed, before diving back into the wardrobe. Another minute of burrowing saw her (silently this time!) brandish a near-identical box over her head.

She handed the long box to Trisha, who carefully removed the tissue paper to reveal a beautiful pair of long black boots with flat heels, secured with cross-lacing at the front, running all the way up from the ankle to the knee, tying both sides of the shaft together.

"Wow Mom, these are neat." Trisha quickly loosened the lacing and pulled the black pair on, then stood up. "Bit loose Mom."

"Try lacing them up first." Given that her daughter had regularly "borrowed" Caitlin's shoes, she was pretty certain that Trisha would fit the boots – meaning that the outfit for tomorrow's flight was sorted even if another pair of socks were needed. Bending over, Trisha set about lacing up her boots. Ten minutes, the "_spirit of Amelia Earhardt_" stood in front of her parents.

"Wow, these are so soft. Mom, where did you find them – and the brown pair?"

"Well, let's just say that you are not the first Pike woman to dress up as Catwoman – or Amelia Earhardt!"

With the last piece of her clothing sorted, Trisha Pike was ready to fly.

As Harm headed off to empty the dishwasher, Trisha tapped her mom on the shoulder and beckoned her back into the bedroom. As she sat by her mom's dressing table and began the laborious task of unlacing what were now "her" flying boots, she had a question to ask Caitlin.

"Mom, I understand that it is a tradition, in the aviation sector, for student pilots to buy their instructors a bottle of fine liquor when they graduate?"

"Sounds reasonable" responded Caitlin.

"Well, I'll be up with Dad tomorrow and I don't know if I will ever have the time to fly often – or regularly – or to go solo and qualify - even though it would be a lovely idea for 'Sarah' in the long term. So, how about I cut to the chase and present him, tomorrow, with a good bottle of scotch?"

Caitlin was overjoyed at her young gazelle's thoughtfulness and selflessness. "Baby girl, I think that would be lovely; what a great idea."

"OK then mom, I'll need your help tomorrow. I shall be with Dad all day, so could you possibly buy a bottle of what he likes please?" She reached behind her for her purse, pulling out three $20 bills.

Caitlin smiled. "Darling, it would be my pleasure. Gift-wrapped, I presume?"

"Yep – I reckon that he deserves that, Mom."

Another thought occurred to Trisha.

"So, Mom, which aviator got you interested in playing Amelia Earhardt?"

Caitlin leaned back, looking into the kitchen where crockery could still be heard clinking as she formulated her reply. She smiled at her daughter.

"Your father left a powerful legacy when he and I got together."

**RMRG-RMRG-RMRG-RMRG**

**Friday 29th December 2017, 08:15hrs EDT**

**Penthouse suite, 210 E Fairfax St, Falls Church, VA 22046:**

"OK, all set?"

""Yes Dad. Hey, come on Daddy - let's go play with your toy." Trisha's eyes were shining bright with excitement.

"Come on then Trisha; let's get airborne."

Harm snorted. "Toy, indeed." he winked at his wife as he closed the penthouse door.

**RMRG-RMRG-RMRG-RMRG**

**Friday 29th December 2017, 09:35hrs EDT**

**Lee Airport-ANP, 3090 Solomons Island Rd, Edgewater, MD 21037:**

"Do you remember the way from yesterday, Trisha?"

"Yes dad: second hangar on the right and look for our Stearman. Oh wow, there it is!"

The yellow Stearman stood out in the weak winter sunshine, ready for them to start.

"Now Trisha, first things first. Before any pilot takes a plane up into the skies, he (or she!) will thoroughly check over the aircraft. It's called a 'walk-round' and we do it in a precise manner and following the same routine. That is important, to ensure that we don't miss anything."

For 20 minutes they walked around the Stearman as Harm pointed out to Trisha the important items and how to check for splits in the fabric. Eventually, satisfied on all counts, Harm once more conducted Trisha to the wing root and watched her climb easily into the front cockpit, swinging her long legs into position and resting them lightly on the pedals as Harm had previously instructed her. Looking aft, he saw the rudder swing from side to side as her feet pushed the rudder bars alternately fore and aft. He leaned over her and explained, as he had the previous day, the position and function of each dial, knob and control.

She produced a small woollen hat from inside her jacket and crammed it on her head. Harm proffered the radio/intercom headset and she put that on, adjusting the mike to sit just in front of her mouth.

Harm settled in behind her and she hear a "click" in her ears.

"Well now, Miss Patricia Caitlin Harmony Pike, tyro pilot – ready for some altitude?"

"Aye-aye skipper."

She listened in as Harm radioed in for the tower and how the interplay of messages and clearances got the little yellow plane to the threshold of the runway.

It seemed, to Trisha, just a matter of minutes before the USN-liveried trainer was rumbling down the runway and simply lifting off effortlessly.

Harm headed out towards a recognised patch of open sky where uncontrolled training exercises were authorised for student and novice pilots. For half an hour he took Trisha through a set of evolutions, explaining each manoeuvre and steadily increasing the complexity; almost every change of direction, alignment of orientation was accompanied by a "whoop" of delighted surprise from his daughter.

Finally, almost 45 minutes after taking off, her Dad uttered the most wonderful words that Trisha had ever heard.

"_Would you like to take her, Trisha?_"

"Oh *wow* yeah please, thanks Dad! Err sorry, thanks skipper."

With his hand shadowing the joystick as the tyro pilot began to get the feel for her aircraft, Harm began to talk his daughter through her first flying lesson.

**RMRG-RMRG-RMRG-RMRG**

**Friday 29th December 2017, 12:47hrs EDT**

**Lee Airport-ANP, 3090 Solomons Island Rd, Edgewater, MD 21037:**

With an hour-long break for a quick lunch down the road at Starbucks whist the Stearman was being refuelled, Trisha Pike was back into her woolly hat and ready to conduct the walk round ahead of their afternoon flight. As they settled into the cockpit, Harm asked one question.

"Do you remember what I said about this plane virtually flying herself?"

"Yes Dad."

"Well, if you follow the stick through, I'll simply increase the airspeed this time until she flies herself off the deck."

"Got it, skipper."

Two Rabbs were ready to fly once more.

**RMRG-RMRG-RMRG-RMRG**

**Friday 29th December 2017, 15:06hrs EDT**

**Lee Airport-ANP, 3090 Solomons Island Rd, Edgewater, MD 21037:**

"OK, that does us very nicely; now, did you enjoy it Trisha?"

"Oh yes Dad, most certainly." Trisha was almost scampering back to Harm's car in excitement.

"OK then; let's get you home; were you warm enough?"

"Oh yes: snug as a bug; I didn't feel the wind anywhere."

Right. Home we go. I'll just ring your mom to let her know we are on the way."

"Sure thing Dad: oh and Dad?"

"Yes sweetheart?"

She leaned across the centre console and kissed him.

"Thanks Dad for such a great day. This confirms my electives."

He looked at her. "Aviation?"

"Nope – Marine Engineering."

He looked perplexed. "Why not Aviation?"

Trisha chuckled lightly to herself. "Because, my dear father, any idiot can fly an aircraft or drive a ship; it takes real engineering skill to keep them in the air and on (or under) the seven seas!" She smiled, disarming any possible displeasure in her father's face.

He shifted the car into gear. "Fair point, daughter; come on then, let's get home."

"Yes please Dad; I can't wait to see Mom and tell her all about our day.**"**

**RMRG-RMRG-RMRG-RMRG**

**In that moment, Harm realised that Trisha Pike had fledged - the fledgling had flown the nest, spreading her wings on the world.**

**He smiled to himself: "_Look out world, here comes my daughter_."**

**RMRG-RMRG-RMRG-RMRG**

**End of Ch14 – "Flying with my father"**

**++++++++++++Cut above here for FFN Publication.**


	15. Academy Marine Engineering excellence

**Red Mittens and a Rose Garden – the Trisha Pike Chronicles, **

**Ch15 – "Academy Marine Engineering excellence" **

**A/N: AU. **What if there was a long-term consequence to the weekend romp between Lt Caitlin Pike and Lt Harmon Rabb Jr at that motel back in the summer of 1996? What is the responsible way to deal with an unexpected aftermath?

**A/N – link to Canon Episodes:** A "post-canon" timeline puts this into "**_JAG Season 23_****…**" (solely for those who want to count!).

**A/N: Publication date: 19-04-2020:** Thanks for *all* your encouraging PMs and positive reviews.

**Notes** **_Mike, UK, 19-Apr-2020 – msg..._**

**Characters from FFNET – C Pike, H Rabb jr, Faith McBurney-Coleman plus OC**

**RMRG-RMRG-RMRG-RMRG**

**Ch15 – "Academy Marine Engineering excellence" **

**RMRG-RMRG-RMRG-RMRG**

**Friday 29th December 2017, 17:53hrs EDT**

**Penthouse suite, 210 E Fairfax St, Falls Church, VA 22046:**

"Hey-hey, welcome home the triumphant flyers". Caitlin was pleased to see Harm and Trisha coming through the door, clearly elated after their day of flying "Sarah" from Lee field.

"Oh wow, mom, it was brilliant. The sensations of the wind in your face and the cold fresh air past your hair, it's just overwhelming. Then Dad let me take the controls."

Caitlin cast her mind back more than 20 years, to when Harm had signed out an F-14 to get them to an important investigation in the shortest time possible. She realised that she had, during her six *willing* months of the affair with Dennis Brockman, described it as "_almost better then full-on sex_." _God_, she thought, _how times change_. She now had her tame Tomcat, making love willingly and regularly, in their bed and elsewhere. But she also knew first-hand - as well as her daughter - how the exhilaration of flying could hold you in its grip.

"If everyone is ready, we'll have an early night ready for California Dreamin' tomorrow morning."

Harm hugged his wife and daughter to him. This was going to be a great new year. "OK gang, we are aiming for 'wheels up' at 11:00hrs, so let's be out of here at 0930hrs. We have about 40 minutes around the southern I-495 then MD-210 to the airfield. With the weather forecast, we'll get aboard in the hangar."

"Aye-aye, Captain."

Tom Boone had lined up the "corporate" G450 (part-owned by him and Harm) for a transcontinental positioning hop on the Saturday morning, which also served to bring "the family" together for New Years. With Caitlin now married into the family and Trisha fully incorporated in his Will and that of Trish, Tom was keen to have his godson/stepson and family in La Jolla for the start of 2018 – a year which would lead to the 50th anniversary of the loss of his wingman over Vietnam.

**RMRG-RMRG-RMRG-RMRG**

**Saturday 30th December 2017, 12:18hrs CDT**

**"****Flight Boonedongle 901", climbing through 38,000ft over southern Missouri:**

The take-off from Washington Executive Airport at Hyde Field had been trouble free. The distant whine of the Rolls-Royce Tay engines at the rear of the fuselage had long settled into a steady background part of the white noise within the fuselage. The five-hour expected journey time (allowing for California being three hours behind DC) meant that an enjoyable day still lay ahead once the Rabb family had reached La Jolla in time for a late California lunch.

Tom had picked up the 2009 airframe when he decided to set up the air-taxi business in 2013. Five years on from the global financial crisis and the resulting slump, the demand for private jet aircraft provision had been growing strongly. The G450 had proven itself an ideal match to their needs, as well as a useful source of revenue. With the G450 going out of production in 2017 with 354 airframes produced, it had been a popular business jet, with known and well-understood costings.

Following the revelation of Trisha's existence, Tom had amended his will and the Company cash flow, diverting 35% of the net profits into a trust fund for the young woman whom he was now proud to refer to as "_my grand-daughter_." He didn't need all the money and it made sense to start divesting for the upcoming generation.

Harm had checked in with the pilot, they were lined up for a 2,300-mile cruise straight into the SAN air-traffic zone. Every time he heard the acronym, he thought of the doomed Loren Singer and her mystery flight to Shannon (SNN) on the west coast of Ireland in 2003. That mystery would never be solved, but he hoped that her troubled soul had found peace. She was just one of the lost colleagues whose names he periodically checked off in his memory on quiet evenings at home. He was happy to remember the past, because his future was now clear, with a new bride and a newly-discovered daughter who was doing good things in her second year at USNA.

Walking out to the aircraft, he had been so proud to see "his" two women walking in apparent lock-step as they scampered through the lightly-drifted snow and below-freezing temperatures which had drifted in through the open hangar doors. With their hair tied back and in matching coats and boots (Trisha had revealed a year earlier that she and Caitlin shared vital statistics and shoe sizes) there was no doubting the "mother and daughter" relationship. Boarding at the small municipal airfield was simplicity itself and the GA hangar would provide protection for Harm's latest Lexus from the DC winter during their time on the West Coast.

**RMRG-RMRG-RMRG-RMRG**

On the approach into the Californian airfield, Harm had looked out to the north at the runways of Miramar. Caitlin reached a hand across to him, gently caressing his left hand. "Happy memories, Harm?"

"Yes darling, very happy – but part of my history now." He looked across at her, intertwining his fingers in hers. "And everything I have, want and need is on this aircraft or at our destination. Thank you for becoming my wife, darling Caitlin."

"Well, let's just say that it was a long time coming, but you were worth waiting for." She looked away, her eyes suddenly moist, staring out at the early afternoon sunlight which flooded the cabin as the plane lined up for its descent into San Diego.

In the seat behind, Trisha smiled to herself. Not only was she glad that these two had created her two decades before, she was also delighted that they had hooked up again and were obviously so blissfully happy. It was a perfect ending.

She had, out of interest with her Engineering specialism in mind, read up on the Gulfstream G450 before the flight. Once the aircraft had reached cruising altitude, Trisha had started to explore the cabin. With her Marine Engineering speciality at USNA confirmed (she was one of only 30 candidates chosen for the ME specialism that academic year) she was fascinated by all things mechanical. The systems on board gave her an idea for the Marine Engineering project which she was going to pitch to her supervisors at the Academy when she returned in the new year for the next semester. She already had an idea for her project – now, she just needed to get it written up and packaged for the presentation back at USNA in January.

**RMRG-RMRG-RMRG-RMRG**

**Saturday 30th December 2017, 13:58hrs PDT**

**General Aviation centre, Montgomery-Gibbs Executive Airport:**

The light scattered clouds and an 8mph headwind had made the landing onto runway 28R a simple piece of airmanship. The air temperature in the early Californian afternoon was already in the 70s (23'C).

The hired minivan pulled out of the airport parking lot, with Harm heading north up SR-163 (the Cabrillo Freeway) to the junction with SR-52 for the run west for the coast at La Jolla. The rental handover had been smooth and the family had been loaded up within five minutes as they bade farewell to the aircrew. Harm still smiled as he walked past the office door for Boonedongle Aviation. He and Tom had come up with the idea when Tom had decided that he wasn't yet ready for "_fade away and go quietly into that dark night_" after he had finally retired from the US Navy after a long and distinguished career.

The simple run north soon had them established on the westbound run for the sea along SR-52. The venue for the New Year's celebrations soon came into view.

**RMRG-RMRG-RMRG-RMRG**

**Saturday 30th December 2017, 14:43hrs PDT**

**Home of Tom and Trish Rabb-Boone, Hidden Valley, La Jolla, CA 92037**

"Hello darlings, welcome." Trish Rabb-Boone stood on the steps as the younger generation arrived and offloaded. She noted their winter clothing – in contrast to her lighter sweater as she enjoyed what passed for winter in California. After the greetings, Tom helped Harm to marshal the minivan into one bay of the three-car guest garage, then the two men walked slowly around the homestead, entering the kitchen door where three generations of Rabb women were congregating around the coffee pot.

Young Trisha was keen to get into the Pacific and swim (she was mollified, on this first day, with a dip in the swimming pool).

The light snack lunch which had been served on the aircraft was supplemented with a selection of cold-cuts. Technically, the body clocks of the "eastern Rabbs" were homing in on tea-time in their "home" time-zone.

A steady flow of conversations carried everyone through until early evening, when a more substantial meal was served.

Caitlin was the first to yawn – causing her husband and her daughter to smile. In fairness, it had been Caitlin who had woken first that morning in Falls Church, checking over the final packing of the luggage before the drive out to Hyde Field.

**RMRG-RMRG-RMRG-RMRG**

**Sunday 31st December 2017, 11:20hrs PDT**

**Home of Tom and Trish Rabb-Boone, Hidden Valley, La Jolla, CA 92037**

"So Trisha, I understand you are floating to the top of the Academy and have been selected for Marine Engineering?"

"Yes Grandpa; it has been good to have Mom and Dad supporting me in making my choice and *not* following their paths through the Academy. So there is another young Rabb (albeit known as Pike) taking her own path through the Academy."

"And no-one at the Academy has worked out who your father is yet?"

"Nope, so far, my secret is safe. My four best friends – and the doctor who treated me when I fell off that monument – all found out at the same time." She grinned. "Oh boy, I was *so* relaxed on the painkillers, I probably would have given away my fantasies if anyone had asked me."

"Well then, young lady, perhaps it was fortunate that no-one asked." Tom smiled reassuringly. "Some information is best kept to oneself."

"Agreed. Grandpa – so how's Grandma? She seems fine but I don't want to over-exert her during our visit. I know that I have only known her for a short while, but I would like my namesake to be around for a while longer."

"Same here – I am still working out the ground rules of married life after so many decades of bachelor life" replied Tom ruefully. "But it seems that '_**so far, so good**_' seems to sum it up. We both tend to have a rest in the afternoon, sheltering from the heat of the day, so I reckon we have a while longer to run yet."

Trisha relaxed. "Good, because I plan on coming out here regularly."

"Well Grand-daughter, if you follow your path you could well be working with the Blue Water fleet out of San Diego in a few years."

Tom settled back into his chair. "Now then, do please tell me about this project you have in mind."

"OK, one of the problems - especially in deep water and also in littoral patrols, is handling the swell and station-keeping for precision work - like shelling the stuffing out of a target..."

Half an hour later as Trisha completed her explanation, Tom was nodding in agreement and approval. Hammer's son - and his lovely capable wife - had produced an excellent daughter who should go far in the US Navy.

**RMRG-RMRG-RMRG-RMRG**

**Monday 8th January 2018, 10:55hrs EDT**

**Faculty of Naval Architecture and Marine Engineering, USNA, Annapolis MDF**

The faculty board members had read Trisha's proposal with interest and authorised her to start work on the project. Over the next two years, Trisha's research and designs would begin to improve vessel stabilization by incorporating the Stabilization Augmentation Systems (SAS) and fuel transfer methods used in aircraft to overcome internal and external forces and maintain proper weight and balance envelopes. She had always been fascinated by the Anglo-French Concorde airliner (retired in 2003) which had used a fuel-transfer system (designed in the 1960s) to help with balance and trim during flight.

Her idea stemmed from her "_aha!_" moment while flying in the family Gulfstream G450. From this, she then developed a hypothesis which saw how combining Ship stabilizers (fins or rotors mounted beneath the waterline and emerging laterally from the hull to reduce a ship's roll due to wind or waves) with active fins (controlled by a gyroscopic control system) could improve the performance of a ship...

Stabilizers (mostly used on ocean-going ships) were to be combined with using the vessel's ballast system in a dynamic configuration. The proposed benefits - making the vessel more stable in movement and at rest – was a breakthrough which gave the best of both methods of stabilization.

It was another example of how USNA frees the creative minds of its students, allowing them to create possible solutions to problems which beset (or will affect in future) the US Navy in its operational environments.

By the end of the Summer Term in August of 2018, Trisha would be running her project in her ME class sessions in the Faculty. She combined this work with all the other activities and lessons which populate the Academic calendar of USNA.

**RMRG-RMRG-RMRG-RMRG**

**Friday 9th March 2018, 18:45hrs EDT**

**Penthouse suite, 210 E Fairfax St, Falls Church, VA 22046:**

"Hello daughter - happy 21st birthday for yesterday."

"Thanks Mom - and thanks for tracking down my father; this family gathering is the best-possible 21st present for me. I love having you both in my life - and your wedding last year just put the icing on the cake."

Harm emerged from Caitlin's kitchen with a bottle of champagne on a tray, surrounded by three chilled champagne glasses. He looked at Caitlin: "Definitely no problems with the provenance of this bottle, Mrs Rabb."

"Why thank you Admiral Rabb. You know Harm, despite the trouble he caused me (and us), I'm truly glad that he's getting the treatment he obviously needs."

A week earlier, Dennis Brockman had been committed permanently to a state psychiatric ward in California, following his failure to show any improvement - along with his failure to amend his distorted belief that Caitlin was "his" for evermore. The Rabb family would not think of him again - he was receiving the right care and would never harm anyone again.

The cork was gently extracted - preserving the bubbles - and the three members of the Rabb family stood, clinked glasses and tasted the cool liquid.

Trisha then proposed a toast. "To the best possible pair of parents a girl could wish for; even if you did end up spending 20 years apart! Mom, Dad - thank you for being you and for being here today to celebrate my 21st birthday."

"OK then daughter, so how about taking 'Sarah' up for a birthday flight on Sunday?"

"Oh yes please, Dad."

**RMRG-RMRG-RMRG-RMRG**

**Saturday 10th March 2018, 11:55hrs EDT**

**Upper floor meeting room, Galway Bay Irish Pub and bar, 63 Maryland Ave, Annapolis MD, 21401:**

"_So, I now know how I need the test rig to function, but it's the programming that is my blind spot_."

Trisha was bringing the other members of the Five Horsemen (plus Samantha Wilkinson, the older student to whom Tony Lee had declared a very strong – but still platonic – attraction the previous year) up to speed.

All the Horsemen had taken different specialisms and the Galway Bay had become a semi-official academic referral event on the second Saturday of the month. The Horsemen gathered at 10:00hrs, ran through their projects (and a lot of coffee!) over the next three hours, then broke for lunch downstairs in the main bar. The proprietor, seeing their serious intent (and happy with the income from this new crop of "regular" patrons), had volunteered them the use of one of the upstairs meeting rooms. The long boardroom-style table was soon covered with designs, blueprints and notepads, with pens and a flipchart provided by the proprietor. As a retired Navy Master Chief, he was pleased to be able to support the upcoming generation of USN officers.

Since Trisha had also turned 21 on the Thursday, this was her "birthday lunch with friends" event. Her quiet dinner with Harm and Caitlin the previous evening was just the first in her sequence of celebrations. Harm had dropped her safely back at the Academy earlier that morning - he continued to be careful about protecting his daughter's identity.

In today's update workshop Trisha had drawn the third slot in the sequence, after Tony Lee's work on navigational systems and Tom McGee's work on environmental improvements. Not surprisingly, Samantha Wilkinson was staying true to her father's medical profession, looking at rehabilitation processes (which took her regularly to Bethesda).

Trisha sat back and sipped her now-cooling coffee. The frustration on her face was clear.

She looked across the table, to where RV Galindez was smiling.

"Go on, RV; what's the thought that's put that smile on your face?"

"Well, TP; you know that I chose computer systems for my specialism?"

All the other Horsemen (including the honorary second-year) had the same lightbulb moment!

Trisha resisted the (strong!) temptation to hug RV.

"**OK, RV; tell me more.**"

**RMRG-RMRG-RMRG-RMRG**

**Ch15 – "Academy Marine Engineering excellence" **

**++++++++++++Cut above here for FFN Publication.**


	16. A birthday flight and more

**Red Mittens and a Rose Garden – the Trisha Pike Chronicles, **

**Ch16 – "a birthday flight and more" **

**A/N: AU. **What if there was a long-term consequence to the weekend romp between Lt Caitlin Pike and Lt Harmon Rabb Jr at that motel back in the summer of 1996? What is the responsible way to deal with an unexpected aftermath?

**A/N – link to Canon Episodes:** A "post-canon" timeline puts this into "**_JAG Season 23_****…**" (solely for those who want to count!).

**A/N: Publication date: 24-04-2020:** Thanks for *all* your encouraging PMs and positive reviews.

**Notes** **_Mike, UK, 24-Apr-2020 – msg..._**

**Characters from FFNET – C Pike, H Rabb jr, Faith McBurney-Coleman plus OC**

**RMRG-RMRG-RMRG-RMRG**

**Ch16 – "a birthday flight and more" **

**RMRG-RMRG-RMRG-RMRG**

**Sunday 11th March 2018, 08:15hrs EDT**

**Penthouse suite, 210 E Fairfax St, Falls Church, VA 22046:**

"OK, all set Lady Amelia and ready to fly?"

Trisha flexed her long legs in their perfectly-laced long boots, then pulled on her flying jacket and took her father's arm as she stood alongside him. "Yes Dad – ready, willing and able."

She side-kicked her right heel under his buttock as he stood alongside her: "Come on Dad, we're burnin' daylight."

Harm flashed a quick "_why me?_" glance at Caitlin, who merely smiled and waved off the two aviators as they departed through her front door. Caitlin had woken earlier to make coffee and toast for the two aviators, who had announced their plans for a more-substantial "father and daughter" breakfast on the road to Annapolis.

"Trisha, if you sign for it, it's yours" she called out helpfully from the window down to their daughter as she headed across the parking lot. Trisha waved in acknowledgement. Casting her mind back to her JAG days, Caitlin recalled wading through the paperwork trail which inevitably mounted up following an aircraft mishap – despite his self-proclaimed love for "_all things aviation-related_", even her newly-married husband would baulk at aircraft paperwork trails!

Watching the car, containing the two most precious people in her life, turn the corner and disappear, she strolled back via the kitchen. She wanted to grab a further cup of coffee before settling down on the settee to read, effortlessly curling her legs under herself in that easy movement which women seem to develop as second nature and men simply cannot mimic. She rested the coffee cup on the table alongside the settee and relaxed, closing her eyes. She had also felt tired on the Saturday but she put that down to the excitement of Trisha's 21st birthday party and the perfectly-planned events which she and Harm had organised for the weekend.

Half an hour later, Caitlin Rabb was asleep in a pool of spring sunshine which flooded the lounge with its light. Some short while later, Trisha and her father arrived at the airfield.

**RMRG-RMRG-RMRG-RMRG**

**Sunday 11th March 2018, 09:58hrs EDT**

**Lee Airport-ANP, 3090 Solomons Island Rd, Edgewater, MD 21037:**

"Oh wow, they've pulled it out ready for us." Trisha was just as excited to see the "Family" Stearman (as she was beginning to consider it) sitting out on the apron in front of the maintenance hangar.

"Dad, might I do the walk-round under your supervision today?"

"Of course, daughter; so what is the principle?"

Almost word-for-word, Trisha recited the Christmas briefing from Harm: "_Before any pilot takes a plane up into the skies, he (or she!) will thoroughly check over the aircraft. It's called a 'walk-round' and we do it in a precise manner and following the same routine. That is important, to ensure that we don't miss anything."_

This time, Trisha lingered over every aspect of the Stearman – as though she was trying to commit every component to memory.

Eventually, satisfied on all counts, she raised a confirmatory thumb in the universal "OK" signal. Harm nodded, so Trisha once more strode to the wing root and climbed up forward towards the front cockpit. She easily swung her long legs into position and rested them lightly on the pedals as before.

Harm was pleased to see that his daughter had remembered what he had previously instructed her.

"OK, controls check". He looked aft as Trisha's feet, on the pedals, swung the rudder from side to side.

He leaned over her and questioned her on the name and function of every dial, knob and control.

Trisha answered every question perfectly.

Finally, Harm nodded approvingly. She was ready for another flight!

**RMRG-RMRG-RMRG-RMRG**

**Sunday 11th March 2018, 10:46hrs EDT**

**Lee Airport-ANP, 3090 Solomons Island Rd, Edgewater, MD 21037:**

Trisha's growing crescendo of screaming excitement reached a peak as the yellow Stearman unstuck from the runway, then she was whooping in joy as the plane soared up through the departure waypoints and flight levels until, eventually, it was able to release from ATC control and head out into uncontrolled airspace.

"Oh brother, this is such a sense of freedom!"

Trisha had been well-and-truly bitten by the flying bug. Nevertheless, she was focussed on her Marine Engineering specialism and her ship stabilisation and control project. But for now, that was something for Monday. She just rejoiced in the freedom which comes from stick-and-rudder control of a small aircraft in an open cockpit. She didn't even notice her nose beginning to chill.

Flying out over the sound, Harm and Trisha made a slow circuit around the Academy, where a few sharp-eyed people, awake and about on the Sunday morning, looked up and smiled at the Yellow "NAVY" livery of the Stearman and it buzzed overhead.

All too soon, it was time to head back to _terra firma_. Trisha was overjoyed; this had been a perfect birthday present: "_Flying with your Dad._"

**RMRG-RMRG-RMRG-RMRG**

**Sunday 11th March 2018, 14:23hrs EDT**

**Penthouse suite, 210 E Fairfax St, Falls Church, VA 22046:**

"Hey-hey, welcome home the triumphant flyers". Once more, Caitlin was pleased to see Harm and Trisha – her husband and their daughter, she corrected herself - coming through the door, once again clearly elated after their day of flying "Sarah" from Lee field.

"Oh wow, mom, it was even better, apart from my nose this time! The sensations of the wind in your face is so enlivening; the cold fresh air past your ears is just exhilarating. I reckon I need a real flying hat."

"Well, it would certainly help your next fancy dress costume – closer to 100% historically authentic" observed Caitlin. She directed the two aviators to the dining room table, where she was ready to serve up steaming-hot soup, accompanied by crusty bread rolls. "Now come on, you two, get it whilst it's hot."

As Trisha sank her spoon into the thick soup, Caitlin looked across at Harm. "So, another great father-daughter flying lesson, Mr Rabb?"

Harm returned one of his biggest, goofiest, self-satisfied smiles that she had seen in a long time.

"Oh yeah, this junior Amelia Earhart is going to be just fine!"

By 5pm, Caitlin had fallen asleep again on the settee as Harm and Trisha read through an aviation book. After an hour, Harm draped a blanket over Caitlin to keep her warm as the temperature dipped in the apartment.

**RMRG-RMRG-RMRG-RMRG**

**Monday 12th March 2018, 10:55hrs EDT**

**Faculty of Naval Architecture and Marine Engineering, USNA, Annapolis MD, 21401:**

Trisha had presented her proposed amendment to her supervising lecturer and the idea was accepted. RV Galindez's lecturers were in favour of the idea because it would involve practical computing exercises on a real-life problem.

Thus it was that, at the next practical session, RV Galindez opened up his laptop alongside Trisha Pike's workstation as the two began to collaborate further – and deeper – on the academic problem.

That very morning, Caitlin had handed Trisha her vintage bottle of perfume. Trisha had used it for her initial meeting with "The Admiral" at the culmination of her application process to USNA, so she knew the provenance.

The next five months would pass quickly and eventually Trisha would have a working rig ready to demonstrate by the end of the summer term.

This would leave her free to join several of her class-mates on a long summer vacation, before they returned as "second class" midshipmen for their third year in the Academy.

At her side, through all this as the Horsemen regularly met, was the constant figure of RV Galindez. Supportive, respectful, helpful and increasingly appreciated by Trisha and the other Horsemen.

**RMRG-RMRG-RMRG-RMRG**

**Saturday 24th March 2018, 11:55hrs EDT**

**Upper floor meeting room, Galway Bay Irish Pub and bar, 63 Maryland Ave, Annapolis MD, VA 21401:**

"_OK guys, what is anyone doing for Easter next weekend?_"

The five Horsemen and Samantha had finished a very quick project update and were about to head downstairs to the bar for lunch.

Trisha was pleased with the progress of her project and was looking forward to a quiet Easter weekend at her Mom's apartment in Falls Church.

"Well, I was wondering about a road-trip – say a couple of hours across to, say, Jersey City. It might keep us sane until the end of Block Three on August 15th."

Tom's idea was considered by the other Horsemen; Samantha piped up: "Has anyone got a strong preference for Philadelphia rather than the cold coast in early April?"

"Philly, heh? Well, it's closer; say a couple of hours plus a half-hour stop, versus three hours of pedal-to-the-metal. Yeah, I could do Philly."

A quick show of hands saw the Liberty Bell emerge as the firm favourite for tourist action, rather than the four miles of the Boardwalk.

Anna logged into the pub's wifi network and the gang had soon selected accommodation. The all-suites accommodation setup in their chosen venue enabled peaceful sleeping arrangements to be made. With an Armed Forces discount, the rates were reasonable and would not break the bank.

**RMRG-RMRG-RMRG-RMRG**

**Sunday 15th April 2018, 12:00noon EDT**

**Penthouse suite, 210 E Fairfax St, Falls Church, VA 22046:**

"Harm, you know that we decided to drop the condoms after the New Year's Eve party?"

"Yes honey; you were pretty certain that your body was moving on to the next stage of your life. I must say, you've been pretty much the same since Christmas."

"Hmm: well, I've been a little sleepier these past four or five weeks – especially at the weekends."

Harm looked at her, puzzled. "So…?"

Caitlin Rabb raised two small white plastic sticks.

"Can you say _dada_?"

Harm embraced her in an all-enveloping, loving hug.

"Well Caitlin, this time we shall go through this experience together."

"Yes Harm, but I want to wait until week thirteen before I tell anyone."

"So when do you reckon that we…?"

She thought for a moment; in fairness, they had been humping like a pair of deprived rabbits since she had gotten the fright of Dennis Brockman out of her system after Christmas.

"Probably around Valentine's night – remember that lovely hotel in Fairfax where we stayed on the Wednesday night?"

Harm nodded, then his face lit up once more.

**"Oh my lord, I'm going to be a Daddy again – this time from the start."**

**RMRG-RMRG-RMRG-RMRG**

**End Ch16 – "a birthday flight and more"**


	17. A baby and a ring

**Red Mittens and a Rose Garden – the Trisha Pike Chronicles, **

**Ch17 – "a baby and a ring" **

**A/N: AU. **What if there was a long-term consequence to the weekend romp between Lt Caitlin Pike and Lt Harmon Rabb Jr at that motel back in the summer of 1996? What is the responsible way to deal with an unexpected aftermath?

**A/N – link to Canon Episodes:** A "post-canon" timeline puts this into "_**JAG Season 23**_**…**" (solely for those who want to count!).

**A/N: Publication date: 26-04-2020:** Thanks for *all* your encouraging PMs and positive reviews.

**Notes:** _**Mike, UK, 26-Apr-2020 – msg...For those of you awaiting chapters in my other long-running stories (especially the supportive – if always-anonymous - "Guest" whose brain I would love to pick via a PM), please relax – they are on the way! However, when I first got the idea for "Red Mittens", it was my plan to have Trisha Pike graduate "in real time" at the end of May 2020. The virus has put the kybosh on that plan – or so it seems! My other stories – "Cigars", "Damaged" and "continuing Commitment" are incubating new chapters (and adventures) steadily. Mike**_

**Characters from FFNET – C Pike, H Rabb jr, Faith McBurney-Coleman plus OC**

**RMRG-RMRG-RMRG-RMRG**

**Ch17 – "a baby and a ring" **

**RMRG-RMRG-RMRG-RMRG**

**Sunday 15th April 2018, 12:15hrs EDT**

**Penthouse suite, 210 E Fairfax St, Falls Church, VA 22046:**

Eventually Harm released his pregnant wife from the loving embrace which he had held for several minutes after her announcement. He bent down to pick up the EPT sticks from where they had landed when Caitlin Rabb released her grip and relaxed into him, enveloped as she had been in her husband's embrace. As he stood up once more, she placed a hand on his chest, over his heart.

"Harm, you'll be pushing 75 by the time this child goes to university; I'll be giving birth at 49. This is going to be a risky pregnancy for a whole heap of reasons."

"Well Caitlin, as I said, this time we shall go through this experience together. I shall be alongside you every step of the way." He took her hands and clasped them together within his gentle grip, trying to pour his reassurance into his wife.

"We can do this, my darling Caitlin; we can definitely do this."

"Yes Harm, but I want to sit down and really look through the risks and work out a mitigation strategy. Plus, apart from telling our daughter, I do seriously want to wait until week 13 before I tell anyone else – even your parents."

"Agreed. It is your body that will have the hard work, so you call the shots."

She chuckled: "Yeah, as someone once said, '_Mother's Day – nine months after Father's Night!_' and I don't think that she was joking entirely."

She leaned in and kissed him. "Come on, let's get lunch running. Oh, can you add more milk to the grocery shopping from now on; I shall need more calcium. Having thought I was about to hit the menopause and been loading up on vitamins for that life change, I now find myself reading up on '_having a happy pregnancy_' rather than '_having a happy change of life_': sheesh, what have I let myself in for?"

Harm shared her seriousness, resting his forehead on hers as he placed a hand on his wife's still-flat and toned stomach. "Caitlin, if there is any risk to you from this pregnancy, we'll make arrangements."

She looked up at him. "What are you saying, Harm."

He kissed her forehead. "Caitlin, I have lost one wife to complications in a pregnancy already. So let me be clear – I would give anything *but* you to have a healthy baby. However, the minute that the pregnancy puts you in danger (for the first 20 weeks anyway), your health and survival take priority. After that time, it gets harder. So let's just hope for seven smooth months from here onwards. What's the due date looking like?"

"Somewhere around the third week of November – so we may have an interesting Thanksgiving experience!"

He chuckled. "Oh brother – turkey and diapers – deep joy!"

**RMRG-RMRG-RMRG-RMRG**

**Sunday 22nd April 2018, 11:35hrs EDT**

**Penthouse suite, 210 E Fairfax St, Falls Church, VA 22046:**

Trisha arrived in time for an aperitif before the once-a-month Rabb-Pike family Sunday lunch. She had – as per usual – brought a nice bottle of Californian red from her Mom's favourite winery – Robert Mondavi in the Napa Valley.

Caitlin's almost-hidden pained expression clued Trisha into the fact that something was going on. Trisha's suspicions were confirmed when Caitlin sat down gingerly as the two women began to catch up on the past week. Caitlin was sitting with a hand pressed lightly over her stomach. Harm opened the red wine and passed a glass to Trisha – and a glass of white grape juice to Caitlin.

Suddenly, the penny dropped.

"Mom, how far along are you?"

Caitlin's beaming smile – as she reached out to hold Harm's hand as they both looked at their daughter – told Trisha everything that she needed to know.

"I'm somewhere around nine or ten weeks at the moment – we're looking at a date somewhere just past the middle of November."

Trisha's brow furrowed as she ran some quick calculations in her head. "So we have a Valentine's baby, yes?"

"I told you we had a smart daughter, Harm".

The slightly sheepish glanced exchanged between Harm and Caitlin confirmed Trisha's suspicions – and made her hug her father then sit down alongside her mother for another hug.

"Look, guys, the fact that I am here is proof-positive that you two had sex in the past – and you got married last year so I don't expect you would be spending the evenings playing checkers during this honeymoon year. Oh wow! Congratulations you two."

"Well Trisha, it means that there are some things that we need to look at. Having just updated our wills with Gordon Cresswell last year, we shall have to make some changes once Samantha Serendipity Rabb arrives." Caitlin looked at Trisha: "particularly in terms of your surname. Now, I know that you are an adult and, until May of 2020 you'll certainly keep your parentage under wraps at the Academy, but would you want to give thought to a name change?"

"Hmm; I've been Trisha Pike all my life, Mom, and it is a name that I am both proud of and very comfortable with. I guess that I don't have any firm timescale for a decision. Anyways, I may well change it when I get married."

She laughed at her parents' stunned expressions." Nothing on the horizon yet – as you well know. But, at some point, I may find the right guy and decide to settle down then reserve my commission and produce the next generation. I'm proud of being called Pike – would you actually *want* me to change my name?"

"Oh absolutely not, baby girl. It was just something that your father and I discussed, in passing, once the news of little Samantha here settled in. I wanted your views on the subject, because she will obviously be born a Rabb.""

"So why pick the name of Samantha, mom? Do you even know that you're carrying a girl yet at nine weeks?"

"No Trisha, you are absolutely right. But I talk to the baby every day and I kinda feel that I am carrying a girl. We'll know more in around a month. We shall also start telling everyone in about four or five weeks. But as to the name: you were obviously named as my tribute to Harm's family. Sam Worthington was one of my schoolgirl friends but she died of leukaemia just before her 15th birthday. It was always a way in which I wanted to commemorate a short life that was well-lived. But you are right, I don't know the baby's gender yet." Caitlin stroked her hand gently across her trim stomach – she knew, from her experience carrying her first child (who now stood tall in front of her, 21 years later) that her wardrobe would soon undergo a rapid and drastic change.

"Oh, waiting for the second trimester? OK, I understand. Well, after that wonderful bombshell, let's get eating. Mom, you obviously sit there and relax; I'll help Dad to serve."

"Thanks – and then you can tell us about your Easter adventure in Philadelphia. Did everyone survive the weekend?"

The Sunday lunch continued with joyful laughter and animated conversation. All too soon, Trisha was heading back to the Academy to her dorm. Another Pike-Rabb family secret was held in trust.

**RMRG-RMRG-RMRG-RMRG**

**Sunday 22nd April 2018, 19:55hrs EDT**

**Penthouse suite, 210 E Fairfax St, Falls Church, VA 22046:**

The sound of Caitlin's snores intruded on Harm's semi-comatose thoughts as they lay spooned on the settee. He gently nuzzled the back of her neck, resting his nose on one of the many little sensitive points which he had discovered since reacquainting himself with the impressive body of Mrs Caitlin Rabb nee Pike.

"Darling, wake up; head call."

"Oh sure Harm; darling, would you mind making me a cup of tea please?"

"Sure thing; any toast or fruit or anything else to eat?"

"Ooh, yes please - those strawberries would go rather nicely with a spot of cream please."

"Cait, something tells me that you'll be playing the '_eating for two_' card shamelessly over the coming months."

His wife's response was merely to stretch out on the settee and turn her head, looking at him with a big smile on her face.

He stood up, rolling himself around his wife as she stretched out to soak up the warmth which he had left behind. With an arm folded behind her head, she looked across at him as he glanced back from the kitchen door.

"Harm, I know that you mentioned updating our wills and it may seem cold-blooded, but what do you think about someone (or a couple of someones, more likely) to look after baby Samantha (and maybe provide adult guidance to Trisha) if something were to happen to us?"

"Hmm, you and I are thinking along similar lines. You got me thinking with that comment about me being 75 around the time of graduation." Harm paused whilst he poured boiling water over the tea-bags, then set the kettle down and resumed. "Obviously Mom and Tom are around for a while, but we need people who are maybe a little younger."

"Agreed; but who?"

He finished stirring the cups and then discarded the tea-bags, adding a splash of milk to Caitlin's liking. He brought the cups across and sat, cross-legged, in front of Caitlin on the settee.

"Well, people who have children – yes?"

"Obviously; we'd need to arrange our affairs to give them a larger home for both sets of children, along with financial security – so we *do* need to talk this through with Trisha, then your Mom and Tom before finally inking the details with Gordon Cresswell."

She looked into his eyes. "You're obviously thinking of somebody?"

"Oh yes; a husband and wife team, whom I have known for 15 years. In fact, I first met the wife 15 years ago today, followed shortly by the husband. They weren't married then – indeed I could say that I facilitated their first meeting and their first interaction."

Caitlin cast her mind back over Harm's life. Suddenly she smiled as she worked out Harm's conundrum about possible guardians.

"Faith and Jack McBurney-Coleman."

"Spot-on; well-spotted, wife."

"I see your logic; Maria and Loren are what, about 12 and 10 now; so they would be old enough to understand the arrival of another baby (or a child much younger than them by around a decade). You know that Faith took me out for lunch about a month after Trisha started at the Academy?"

"No, but I realise that you had obviously met and clearly you two get on – she occasionally mentions you, with a knowledge that goes beyond simply knowing the name of the Admiral's wife. So how do you think she would react to the suggestion?"

"Harm, I reckon that she would love it. She always said that she and Jack had aimed for three (not least because he fancied the idea of a son to carry on the McBurney name), but unfortunately she had a bad miscarriage about a year after Loren arrived, which the resulting complications meant no more children for Faith."

"God, what a waste – the Vulcan Princess has really done a great job of joining the human race" Harm replied. He hadn't know about Faith's pain and misfortune – clearly those Vulcan eyes were still capable of hiding secrets. "Right, I need to let her know as my CoS - the will be the one person whom I tell ahead of the embargo. We can start telling the others once we get past the 13-week point – maybe we should invite Faith and her family around for a Sunday lunch?"

"Hmm, good idea – maybe the start of June; say the weekend after Memorial Day?"

"Sounds great – I'll mention it to Faith this week."

"And now husband, with this lovely cup of tea inside me, I am going to bed; this child-bearing lark is clearly best-suited for younger women."

Caitlin stood upright and headed for their bedroom, leaving Harm to follow a "breadcrumb trail" of discarded clothing of an increasingly-intimate variety.

**RMRG-RMRG-RMRG-RMRG**

**Wednesday 25****th**** April 2018 – 11:59hrs EST, US Naval Academy, Annapolis MD:**

"Faith, might I offer to buy you lunch – partly as a reward for that excellent planning workshop this morning?"

"A free meal from my boss *and* praise as well? Just let me check – can I get my cover on my swollen head?"

Faith McBurney-Coleman's laugh echoed around her office as she collected her cover and looped her handbag over her shoulder. Locking her drawers, she looked across at Harm's smiling face and gestured to the door, choosing her words to match the informal nature of Harm's invitation.

"Lead on, boss-man."

As they walked to the commissary, Harm sneaked a side-view at Faith's friendly smile as he (as the senior officer present) acknowledged the salutes of passing midshipmen.

Her confident stride alongside him showed no sign of struggling to keep up with his long legs. Faith was one of that generation of female officers who divided her time (unless directed by specific circumstances) between skirt and pants. Today, in late April, with only office work in her calendar, was a skirt day. Harm knew that Faith, with her exercise regime which had served her well across several pregnancies) was proud of her figure.

Thinking back across his various female partners over nearly a quarter-century, Harm was proud that the US Navy had finally moved decisively towards providing female officers with a clear choice of how they would decide their own dress sense. He knew that Mac – who was very proud of her body – had usually preferred skirts, whereas Cait and Meg had switched as required. Most of the female midshipmen currently studying in his Academy wore pants without a second thought – the generational shift was continuing.

His idle musings came to a halt as the echo of Faith's heel-tips changed at the entrance to the Commissary. Looking at the menu with her eagle-sharp vision, Faith gave him her choice of food then went to grab a chair ahead of the main crowd.

With lunch paid for and delivered to the table, Harm placed the tray on the floor and waited until Faith had unwrapped her sandwich.

She looked across at him. "OK boss, a free lunch - even with praise for a job well done - usually means that there is something else. You're not lending me to those muppets at the CIA again, are you?" She focussed on sliding an escaped pickle back into her sandwich, giving Harm time to form his response.

He saw that her Vulcan eyes were twinkling with mirth and he knew that she wasn't serious; obviously she had been read in on some of the "_Clayton Webb SNAFu operations_" of the past, which had placed Harm and Mac in danger on more occasions than any couple had a right to survive. Indeed, she had been amazed that the two of them had survived long enough to marry, although the AAR relating to Chegwidden breaking Webb's nose in Moscow always raised a smile.

"Err nope, Faith, just a heads up. We are not telling anyone else until the 13-week point but…"

She looked up suddenly from her sandwich, with a big smile. "Caitlin's pregnant? Wow, brave lady at her age."

"Hey, she made the point that she is younger than you – just! Anyhow, as my CoS you will obviously need to know about this, in case we have a sudden trip to the OB-GYN. As you spotted, she's what the paediatricians will label "_a mature mother_".

"Hah; I am so glad I got my breeding done earlier in my career before I hit 40." Faith paused, as a momentary flash of sadness clouded her features. "I presume that she told you…?"

"About the miscarriage and its consequences? Yes Faith she did, but only this weekend. She'd respected your confidence up to that point and she only mentioned it when I told her that I would need to brief you as my CoS. I hope that's OK?"

"Of course boss; you have – as always – managed to dress up an apology as a compliment." She smiled as she tucked into the second part of her sandwich.

"Well, Faith, following up from that, how about we invite the McBurney-Coleman clan around to the penthouse in Falls Church on the first Sunday in June?"

"First weekend after Memorial day? That sounds great, boss; I'll check the calendar at home in the kitchen but assume we shall be there."

"And now, Faith, might I offer you a decent coffee to finish?"

**RMRG-RMRG-RMRG-RMRG**

The month of May flew by, leading up to graduations and the Memorial Day commemorations. Harm managed to fly with Trisha on the middle Sunday of the month and she was beginning to really enjoy these airborne hours and time with her Dad.

Each time, they invoked the mantra of aircrew and groundcrew in Britain's Royal Air Force: "_So long as you walk away from it, it was a good landing_."

**RMRG-RMRG-RMRG-RMRG**

**Sunday 3rd June 2018, 12:25hrs EDT**

**Penthouse suite, 210 E Fairfax St, Falls Church, VA 22046:**

"_Welcome one and all_."

Caitlin thanked Faith for the flowers and knelt down carefully to welcome Maria and Loren whilst Harm greeted Jack McBurney-Coleman. Trisha was hard at work in the kitchen, but stuck her head out to wave a spatula at the arriving guests before diving back into the heat of a rapidly-completing Sunday lunch.

There was no uneasiness in the two different relationships which she had with her Dad (aka "_the Admiral_") nor with Faith (aka "_Chief of Staff_") when they met inside the Academy, compared with this home life at the penthouse which she clearly regarded as her Mom and Dad's home.

"Anything I can help with?" Faith stood at the kitchen entrance, just checking for clearance from "the chef". Caitlin was already relaxing on the sofa, with Maria and Loren at either side of her as they caught up with their relatively-new "Auntie Caitlin" who had arrived in the life of their "Uncle Harm" some years after "Auntie Sarah" had suddenly disappeared. In fairness, little Loren had only been four at that point, so the memory of Sarah Mackenzie-Rabb was fading quickly.

"Oh, well-timed Faith: the gravy juices are ready, so please do the honours with that pan on the back right. Please use a pinny to protect your outfit – that's a lovely summer dress by the way."

"Thanks Trisha; yes, I used some birthday money when Jack and I had a weekend away in Philly the other month. I'm still getting used to these heels, though."

"Yeah, Philly's a nice city – a gang of us were there at Easter and it was a great break for all of us."

**RMRG-RMRG-RMRG-RMRG**

The Sunday lunch was quickly served, including a vegetarian dish for Harm.

After lunch, Trisha took Maria and Loren for a walk around the block while Harm, Caitlin, Faith and Jack sat around the table finishing their coffees.

Jack opened the discussion. "Caitlin, Faith has told me about the pregnancy. Well done, you must have taken a bit of convincing to start on motherhood again?"

"Well, yes and no, Jack (and thanks for not saying "at your age!)".

Everyone laughed as Caitlin continued. "After the Dennis Brockman event in the hotel on what was meant to be our delayed honeymoon, I wanted to reaffirm my relationship with Harm and we decided that, if it happened, so it happened. I was fairly certain – from all the evidence - that my child-bearing days were over, but Mother Nature decided to surprise me."

"How was the first ultrasound?"

"All looking fine; I only have one hitch-hiker on board, but they were being shy and we still are uncertain on the boy-girl question. I'm at 14 weeks now, so we will know for sure at the amniocentesis test at week 16 – a couple of weeks from now."

She looked at Faith. "But there is something practical which we would like to start discussing with you guys." She reached across and took Harm's nearest hand, placing her free hand on her lap. "We probably will get to see this child graduate, but we need to look at the situation in case anything happens to both of us."

"Sensible precautions; how may we help?" Jack was ahead of the curve, whilst Faith reached across, took his hand and nodded.

"We need to think about guardianship for Samantha Serendipity in case something happens to us and…"

"Yes." Faith's answer was instant and clear, just as Trisha returned with Loren and Maria.

Jack nodded silently as Faith explained, tears in her eyes. "As you know, I had room in my heart for number three, but Mother Nature decided to block that route for me. We even considered adopting, but I was just too raw at the time. So, to answer your question. Yes with pleasure and with determination and with commitment: Jack, Maria, Loren and I would be delighted – if tragedy occurs – to welcome Samantha into our lives as a full family member."

She looked across to Trisha: "And that includes you, Trisha, if you wanted a superannuated 'big sister' in your life." Faith and Trisha both laughed, as Harm sighed in relief.

"Thank you; I'll get onto my family lawyer in La Jolla this week."

"Of course, Harm. Just pop your head into my office and let me know what information you need for the will or for any guardianship files or papers, Harm. Oh, what are you two doing about your Living Wills? Jack and I did ours after I nearly died after number three."

Clearly, Faith's method for handling the residual grief regarding her unborn child was to treat it as simply a number.

Harm thought: "_whatever gets you through the night_."

**RMRG-RMRG-RMRG-RMRG**

**Sunday 3rd June 2018, 17:53hrs EDT**

**Penthouse suite, 210 E Fairfax St, Falls Church, VA 22046:**

"Trisha, we've spent the day looking forward and planning; thanks for looking after Faith and Jack's kids whilst the adults had their talk."

"No problem at all, mom."

"Well, there is just one thing left = and it affects you and your legacy."

Trisha sat calmly, waiting for whatever was coming next.

"Trisha, when you go back to the Academy for the third year, as a second-class Middy your intake will start to design your class rings in October, ready for the Ring Dance in next May's Ball."

"True; in fact, some of the girls were debating this the other week; tradition dictates that the class ring is worn on the third finger of the left hand, but many of us want to reserve that for engagement rings and - eventually – wedding bands."

"It's a good job that you have your mother's long fingers, then. But that is not the point at issue."

Caitlin handed Trisha a small box bearing the USNA. Inside was a "Class of 1989" class ring.

"I won't be wearing this again; I'm retired and I am proud to wear the wedding and engagement rings which your father has given me. So, would you like to use the stone from my ring, as a link across the generations?"

Trisha threw her arms around her mother in a warm hug, remembering to not get too close at waist height. Fortunately she was still wearing her heels – Caitlin was barefoot – so she could "lower altitude" without problem.

"Mom, what a lovely idea – yes please."

"Good." Caitlin looked conspiratorially at Harm. "Besides, I have it on good authority that husbands (as fathers of new-borns) often buy their wives a diamond eternity ring when the second child is born."

Harm was just a little too emphatic with his whispered response - because "_bat-ears_" Caitlin Pike-Rabb picked up his whispered "_oh brother_". She smiled, like a cat which had uncovered a particularly satisfying vein of cream.

A trip to the jewellers shop was now clearly in plan for Harmon Rabb jr!

**RMRG-RMRG-RMRG-RMRG**

**End Ch17 – "a baby and a ring" **

**++++++++++++Cut above here for FFN Publication.**


	18. What's in a name?

**Red Mittens and a Rose Garden – the Trisha Pike Chronicles, **

**Ch18 – "what's in a name?" **

**A/N: AU. **What if there was a long-term consequence to the weekend romp between Lt Caitlin Pike and Lt Harmon Rabb Jr at that motel back in the summer of 1996? What is the responsible way to deal with an unexpected aftermath?

**A/N – link to Canon Episodes:** A "post-canon" timeline puts this into "**_JAG Season 23_****…**" (solely for those who want to count!).

**A/N: Publication date: 28-04-2020:** Thanks for *all* your encouraging PMs and positive reviews.

**Notes:** **_Mike, UK, 28-Apr-2020 – msg... A short update to greet the gentle rain here in northern England today._**

**Characters from FFNET – C Pike, H Rabb jr, Faith McBurney-Coleman plus OC**

**RMRG-RMRG-RMRG-RMRG**

**Ch18 – "what's in a name?" **

**RMRG-RMRG-RMRG-RMRG**

**Sunday 17th June 2018, 16:19hrs EDT**

**Penthouse suite, 210 E Fairfax St, Falls Church, VA 22046:**

"_Welcome back the flyers_."

At 16 weeks, Caitlin's gently-swollen body was stretching the limits of her last batch of t-shirts as she stood in front of the air-con outlet in the lounge of her apartment. Virginia was beginning to swelter as Spring moved inexorably into Summer.

Harm and Trisha had set off early in the morning, to fly "Sarah" for a couple of hours out of Lee field. Caitlin was delighted that Harm and Trisha had been able to maintain this "_one Sunday per month_" arrangement and she had enjoyed a lazy morning in bed, before rising and getting the family Sunday lunch ready for when the aviators returned to the apartment.

She was happy, bustling around the apartment. Apart from abandoning any shoes with heels above two inches, her life was continuing on its normal path and she was following her normal routine. Her own approach to life was "_I am pregnant, not ill_" and she had continued her exercises and also continued cycling around the Academy grounds when she and Harm stayed over in the Superintendent's accommodation on-campus.

They had settled into the routine of spending four nights (Monday through Thursday) every week on-campus during the term-time, so that Harm would be onsite for any operational requirements during the weekdays. Even though he had a full team to deal with any problems, Harm took his duty of pastoral care seriously – another facet of the man whom Caitlin had come to love.

The 44-mile commute home across DC on a Friday - and the matching return leg, usually undertaken on a Monday morning - gave them a separate life at weekends. On "flying weekends", the whole family would head back to Annapolis on the Sunday evening, to drop Trisha off and to settle - one day earlier - into Harm's quarters onsite. By the same token, Trisha was always welcome to hitch a ride to Falls Church with her parents on Fridays. In practice, she rarely did this, travelling over later on Saturday - or meeting Harm out at the airfield on the Sunday morning - so that she could continue the traditional Horsemen Saturday Lunch in the Galway Bay.

Caitlin had fully settled into her role as "_the Admiral's wife_" and she was accepted and appreciated around the campus – especially with her own successful career as a naval officer widely known and understood. She had also (voluntarily and after a comprehensive vetting process) joined the pastoral staff of the Academy's administrative support team, taking turns and occasionally helping out and listening when students found themselves needing a (confidential and definitely off-the-record) chat about anything that might be worrying them. Caitlin's former USN career and her legal training (both at Harvard and then at JAG) enabled her to gently pry open the most firmly-shut of concerns, helping the troubled students to realise a better way of dealing with their problems.

**RMRG-RMRG-RMRG-RMRG**

She had attended her 16-week scan and was ready to let Harm and Trisha know the outcome – which had surprised her slightly when the OB-GYN had printed off the picture and handed it to her on the Wednesday afternoon. On her way back from the OB-GYN, Caitlin had met up with Faith McBurney-Coleman and the two women had chosen three maternity dresses for Caitlin to move into as the growing baby pushed her body beyond the limits of even baggy t-shirts. As Faith had remarked: "_The Admiral's pregnant wife should always look elegant_."

She had kept the news to herself as the family enjoyed the weekend in Caitlin's (although it was considered increasingly as _their_) apartment.

A chicken salad awaited the intrepid flyers: Caitlin rejoiced to see the easy, happy way in which father and daughter strolled in from the car. Trisha paused at the doorway to unlace what she now called her "_flying boots_" and to place them in the cupboard alongside her boot bag (where she would later clean and polish them before she headed back to her dormitory in the Academy).

Harm opened a beer whilst Trisha and Caitlin both shared a large bottle of chilled root beer. The conversation wandered through the inevitable flying report from Trisha, through a quick discussion about the plans which the Horsemen had announced for a weekend in mid-August to mark the gap between terms, before finally moving onto the upcoming addition to the Pike-Rabb family.

"Well, Harm and Trisha; I have kept this update quiet until all three of us were together. I have news from the OB-GYN and it is, I am pleased to say, building upon the fact that I have a good and successful pregnancy under way."

She sipped her root-beer as she savoured the steadily-rising stress and expectation levels in her husband and daughter. Trisha's eyebrows were almost nestling under her hairline, as she desperately resisted the temptation to grab her Mom and scream "_tell me the news, you cruel mother!_"

Harm and Trisha reached out to Caitlin and, smiling, she imparted the news which she had kept to herself for a couple of days.

"Well, I have decided that Samantha Serendipity won't be the best name for our new child in November after all, Harm."

He nodded. "OK darling, you have the hard work, so what name have you chosen for her?"

"I haven't."

"OK, do you want me to name her?"

"Nope."

Trisha joined in: "So do you want *me* to name her?"

Caitlin's joyful smile was broadening with every answer as she kept her husband and daughter on tenterhooks. She shook her head.

"No Trisha, that's not what you are going to be doing either."

"OK, we give in Mom; what's the name?"

"Harm, how would Samuel sound to you?"

**RMRG-RMRG-RMRG-RMRG**

**End Ch18 – "what's in a name?" **

**++++++++++++Cut above here for FFN Publication.**


	19. Fathers and daughters

**Red Mittens and a Rose Garden – the Trisha Pike Chronicles, **

**Ch19 – "fathers and daughters" **

**A/N: AU. **What if there was a long-term consequence to the weekend romp between Lt Caitlin Pike and Lt Harmon Rabb Jr at that motel back in the summer of 1996? What is the responsible way to deal with an unexpected aftermath?

**A/N – link to Canon Episodes:** A "post-canon" timeline puts this into "**_JAG Season 23_****…**" (solely for those who want to count!).

**A/N: Publication date: 29-04-2020:** Thanks for *all* your encouraging PMs and positive reviews – along with your suggestions (many of which *do* find their way into my stories).

**Notes:** **_Mike, UK, 29-Apr-2020 – msg... other writings beckon for a few days._**

**Characters from FFNET – C Pike, H Rabb jr, Faith McBurney-Coleman plus OC**

**RMRG-RMRG-RMRG-RMRG**

**Ch19 – "fathers and daughters" **

**RMRG-RMRG-RMRG-RMRG**

**Sunday 15th July 2018, 09:28hrs EDT**

**Starbucks coffee shop, near Lee Airport-ANP airport, **

**3059 Solomons Island Rd, Edgewater, MD 21037:**

Harm pulled into the Starbucks parking lot and parked up, locking the Lexus as he headed into the coffee shop, which had become their routine meeting point before flying "Sarah".

Trisha rose from her corner table where she had sat as he drove the final miles to their meeting, guiding him in and confirming ETA timings as she had cycled across from the Academy. She removed the Bluetooth earpiece from her left ear and held out her right hand to welcome her Admiral. Father and daughter had established this SOP in public places, to minimise the risk of anyone from the Academy identifying the familial link between them.

His eye swept over the bicycle helmet and bright yellow cycling vest, plus her flying coat and a boot carrier.

"Good morning Admiral, what coffee might I buy you?"

Trisha was nothing if not respectful – just as one would expect from a USNA midshipman, on the cusp between second and third year in the Academy, meeting the Academy Superintendent offsite.

"Thanks, a large Latte would be nice please."

Harm settled into his chair and admired his daughter's jodhpur-clad rump as she walked up to the counter to place the order. Her large mug of hot chocolate was cooling on the table.

"_She truly *is* her mother's daughter_" he mused as he cast a critical eye over his daughter, taking in her physical "assets" and her taste for chocolate. At some point during the past two decades, Caitlin had expounded to him about the "_spiritual relationship between women and chocolate_" - and their daughter was clearly cast in the same mould.

"How long did the ride take today?" He asked, as Trisha slid back into the seat opposite him.

"Oh just on the hour – it's about eight miles from the Academy and I have a choice of routes to here – limited only by having to use one of the two bridges over the South River. I tend to prefer Solomons Island Road, because it is a straight-line and traffic is light on a Sunday morning for my ride out here" Trisha replied. She wiggled her trainer-clad feet and gently hefted the boot carrier on her outstretched arm. "Unfortunately my 'Amelias' are not quite flexible enough for vigorous cycling, so I shall change later before the flight."

"Good; we'll load up your bike and then head to the airfield in a while. SO, what did you want to discuss before we fly?"

"Well Dad, there are a coupla things. I am really pleased that Mom's pregnancy is going so well. The surprise about a son must have rocked you a bit?"

Trisha sipped her chocolate whilst she waited for Harm to form his response.

"Well Trisha, I have a problem over the name. Your mom knows that I never wanted another fatherless generation of Rabb children growing up – accepting that you got to the age of 18 before we met." He sighed. "I can see the logic in '_Harmon Rabb jr III_' but I also wonder whether it might be time to break the mould?"

Trisha nodded. "Dad, we have two middies in this year's intake who are third and fourths. The expectations of their families are absolutely crushing them. They can't do what they want freely, because of the weight of expectations from the generations which went before. They are *really* not allowed – by their families, not the Academy which is open and free and encouraging – to grow and prosper and develop and blossom. They are prisoners of their families' histories and expectations."

She sipped her chocolate again and Harm looked closely into her face. Harm realised that she was wearing quite heavy (yet very subtle) make-up, ready to protect her skin from the icy blast in the open cockpit once they took off in "Sarah". This was a young woman who knew how to face the world. Just for a moment, he lamented the years when he had been unaware of his daughter's existence. However, he contented himself that there was no doubting that Trisha Pike was an excellent product of Caitlin Pike's nurturing.

"Dad, for my money, I would pick another name – maybe the 'fatherless Rabb' trope is past its sell-by date. Also, Mom has explained the Samantha history – she told me a bit more recently, about how they shared a dorm at Wellesley and just how Samantha's decline shook the whole year and the staff involved. Sam or Samantha means a lot to my Mom – who is also your wife and is putting her body through the torture of a pregnancy at 50. You owe her, big time, father!"

Harm paused, thinking back over the years. Was this the time to let go of a big "family secret" and explain another part of his thinking to this young woman who bore half of his DNA in her cells?

Harm made his decision.

"Well Trisha: I haven't told your Mom this (yet!), but Mac - my Sarah - understood my challenge. She *really* understood - hell , she was alongside me through all the 'fatherless Rabb' adventures and she went further, travelling alongside me, than I ever had any right to expect. She literally went with me to the arse-end of Russia and faced down the KGB *and* the tundra as I tracked his fate. After we were married, when she first fell pregnant, she took my hand and told me that - if she was carrying our son - she wanted a different name. As she put it: "_Harm, the search for Harmon is at an end; it is time to look forward_' and I believe that she was right to propose a change. The only problem is 'expectations' around '_fatherless Rabb sons_' and I intend to be around for my son". He rested his chin on the table.

She looked him four-square in the eyes. "Dad, I also reckon it is time for a new name in the family line. I had – and I have - no problem with being named Patricia. I also don't mind about having Caitlin in my names. But know this Dad; my children will have different names (maybe apart from their last Christian name, perhaps). But let's have a change in the male Rabb heir line. I don't expect you to end up missing in the middle of the Pacific or somewhere in the perma-frost of Russia."

"Thanks daughter; I was thinking along similar lines; I guess that I was thinking too much about what people may think."

"Dad, screw 'em! There is only one question that matters - and that is '_What does the Rabb family want to do?_' This matter is *our* responsibility and *our* right to choose – all three-and-a-half of us, because we *are* the Rabb family now!"

She drained her chocolate and placed the mug firmly on the table. "Now, Dad, onwards to what *I* wanted to discuss with you."

"OK, lead on."

"Right. RV's parents will be passing through in a couple of weeks' time. I would like us all to meet up. But that isn't going to happen if you're going to go all medieval/lock-up-your-daughter on me over our deep friendship."

She looked at Harm, giving him a clear view back into the pre-history of Caitlin Pike – who would sometimes use exactly the same penetrating gaze when she was determined about something on a case that they were working.

He nodded. "OK darling; that makes sense. Does this give me the right to ask how serious you two currently are about the future after USNA?"

"Yes of course – you are my father, so you have the right to ask."

Caitlin paused, looking down to examine her bare hands before she looked up at her father.

"Dad, you know the concept of 'love at first sight', don't you?"

"Yes, it struck me when I first met Diane at the Academy – and it was hell for us until we graduated four years later and could act on our attractions and desires, except that we then got posted."

"Good, because that means you can understand what I am going to say next."

He sat and waited quietly as Trisha marshalled her thoughts.

"Dad, RV and I are growing closer. Oh, we'll obey the rules (you obviously set a good example with Diane) but we currently plan to act on our feelings in less than two years from now. "

"Fair enough Trisha. You're a grown woman, you understand your body and you know that we shall love and support you in whatever you decide. I think that you two have done the right thing by waiting. Certainly – both as your father and your Superintendent – I have no concerns; in fact I am very proud of you. Err - have either of you looked elsewhere?"

Trisha looked up at him. Slightly sheepishly. "No Dad, we haven't – and we have discussed the possibility as a pair of adults, as part of realising what we both want to wait for. RV pointed out that there are only about 15% females in the Academy – so I would be spoiled for choice *if* I were to go looking, whereas he'd face severe competition! But that's just it – I don't want to look and I don't need to look. I am willing to wait until he and I are free of the USNA restriction. There is no-one else whom I fancy – and as you know, there is some 'prime-cut USDA rib' on offer within the Academy."

She smiled, enabling Harm to crack a warm smile as he understood that his daughter was making mature decisions about her sexuality and her future plans – just as her mother had. He remembered the feral snarl of a warmed-up Caitlin Pike as she had wrapped herself around him for "round five" all those years ago in their hotel room - on the weekend when they had created the wonderful, self-assured young woman who now sat before him, discussing her (future) sex life with her father.

Oh boy, RV Galindez was in for the ride of his life in late May 2020! "_Look out, Randolph Victor!_" he thought, looking into his daughter's smiling eyes.

Harm cleared his throat and came back from mid-2020 to real-time 2018.

"So, do we need to book you two a room at the local hotel?"

"No, father, but you *can* definitely meet up with RV's father and ensure that both sets of parents are aware of what we plan. Even if this doesn't work out in the long term, RV and I have plans for the end of our time in the Academy. We plan to give each other a special and unique gift."

"Fair enough, daughter. You are mature, intelligent and organised. If you wanted it, you have my blessing. Also, as the Superintendent, I am pleased that you are observing the Academy's honour code."

She giggled – the familiar sound from her interview *and* reminiscent of her mother's chuckle. "Of course, my Admiral: honour and virtue will be preserved!"

He lightly tapped her hands as she had them placed on the table top. "Come on, nugget. Let's get some air beneath us."

"Aye-aye skipper". Trisha unlaced her trainers, then straightened her socks and began the laborious task of lacing up both her long flying boots. Harm complimented her on the gleaming coat of polish. "Thanks Dad, I guess that I have had a good teacher these past two years."

"OK, where is the key for your bicycle lock?"

"Here on my waist-belt; come on, let me unlock and get the bike into the Lexus, then onward to the airfield and let's get some air beneath us, Dad."

**RMRG-RMRG-RMRG-RMRG**

**Sunday 15th July 2018, 16:37hrs EDT**

**Penthouse suite, 210 E Fairfax St, Falls Church, VA 22046:**

"_Welcome back the flyers_." Caitlin Rabb's traditional greeting rang out to welcome Harm and Trisha home.

In her 22nd week, Caitlin had decided to rest on the settee after preparing lunch for her flyers. Despite the air-con in the apartment, the July heat – along with the heat from the oven - was beginning to sap her resilience. The OB-GYN's words, about Caitlin being a "_very healthy older mother, but an older mother nonetheless_" were coming back to haunt her; plus, she still had 17-18 weeks to go!

She smiled at her daughter as the younger woman started unlacing her boots in the hallway. "So Trisha, has the day gone well?"

"Oh yes Mom – and Dad has resolved his issues about the baby's name."

"That is good to hear. Anything else?"

"Yes – I have suggested meeting up with RV's parents when they visit the area next month."

"Trisha, I think that would be a lovely idea." Caitlin reached out to Harm, who nodded as he took her hand and gently rubbed his thumb over the back of her palm.

She relaxed as Trisha and Harm headed to the kitchen to dish up the meal. Just at that point, her baby decided to start his afternoon exercises!

Caitlin Rabb didn't mind. She was in her home, with her loving husband and their wonderful daughter, whom they had produced more than two decades ago. The next iteration of the Rabb-Pike family - this time definitely born in wedlock - was on the way and kicking healthily.

**Life was good.**

**RMRG-RMRG-RMRG-RMRG**

**End Ch19 – "fathers and daughters" **

**++++++++++++Cut above here for FFN Publication.**


	20. Work-life balance

**Red Mittens and a Rose Garden – the Trisha Pike Chronicles, **

**Ch20 – "work-life balance" **

**A/N: AU. **What if there was a long-term consequence to the weekend romp between Lt Caitlin Pike and Lt Harmon Rabb Jr at that motel back in the summer of 1996? What is the responsible way to deal with an unexpected aftermath?

**A/N – link to Canon Episodes:** A "post-canon" timeline puts this into "_**JAG Season 23**_**…**" (solely for those who want to count! "Season 24" would start around 20-Sep-2018).

**A/N: Publication date: 05-05-2020:** Thanks for *all* your encouraging PMs and positive reviews – along with your suggestions (many of which *do* find their way into my stories).

**Notes:** _**Mike, UK, 05-May-2020 – msg... xxx.**_

**Characters from FFNET – C Pike, H Rabb jr, Faith McBurney-Coleman plus OC**

**RMRG-RMRG-RMRG-RMRG**

**Ch20 – "work-life balance" **

**RMRG-RMRG-RMRG-RMRG**

**Monday 16th July 2018, 08:55hrs EST**

**Annapolis Satellite office of Lowell, Hanson law offices, **

**821 Chesapeake Ave, Annapolis, MD 21403, **

After breakfast and kissing Harm goodbye as he set off to cycle across to his office, Caitlin had made the short drive down 6th Street across the Spa Creek Drawbridge from Annapolis and parked in the office car park of her new location. Her employers had been happy to assign her to help with the setting up of their new office, as their business continued to outgrow their central DC location. With an increasing amount of business coming from the area, an office in the Annapolis area made sound business and economic sense. The timing had also been perfect for Caitlin, who was tiring of the 40-mile commute each way, on days when her presence was required in the DC office. Her home office in the apartment had been mirrored in Harm's spare room in the Superintendent's Residence, thereby maintaining her productivity and minimising the driving as she moved into the later stages of her pregnancy.

A well-groomed Hispanic woman, noticing her loading her trolley with document cases from the trunk of her car, strode quickly out of the reception area to offer assistance.

"Oh yes please. I am starting here today on a relocation from the Watergate site." Caitlin gestured down at her baby bump, clearly visible through her summer dress. "It saves on commuting stress as well, so although my brain is working just fine I sure am glad to save on the driving time."

"Oh, I know all about that", replied her new colleague. "My husband and I have a pair of nine-year-old twins. Allow me to introduce myself and then help to get you settled." She stuck out her hand to Cait. "Pleased to meet you; I am Maria Elena Carmelita Moreno Gutierrez."

Caitlin noted the wedding band on Maria Elena's hand.

"Caitlin Rabb; call me Cait or Caitlin." She smiled, "So, which of those five names do you go by?"

"Usually Maria Elena. Very occasionally Senora Gomez! Here, allow me to lead you in."

Maria Elena picked up Caitlin's wheeled trolley and the two women walked towards the entrance, where the powered doors opened automatically to admit them. Maria Elena stopped alongside a large, slightly faded photograph, which was edged with long black ribbons and entitled "_Dalton Lowne, 1959-1998"_

"So, where is home for you, Caitlin?"

"Our long-term home (apart from San Diego which is in the family roots state) is Falls Church, but we use my husband's accommodation in Annapolis on weeknights. He's the Superintendent of the Naval Academy over the bridge."

"Wow, an important man – and a convenient base for yourself."

Maria Elena paused, spinning round on her heels and looking back straight at Caitlin.

"Hold up, did you say your name was Rabb?"

"Yes, I am on the firm's books as 'Caitlin Pike' but I took my husband's name when we finally married last year; we have a 21-year-old daughter who is a midshipman at the Academy."

"Hmm; I knew a Harmon Rabb half-a-lifetime ago - and he was in the US Navy. What are the chances, I wonder…?"

"Maria Elena, probably better than you think; and you can check this very day! He'll be meeting me for lunch today; because it is such a short distance, we are now able to make that sort of lunchtime assignation, while I am working here."

"Well Cait, I believe that Harm can wait until lunchtime. Come, I have your office ready; just let me know where you want everything placed."

Caitlin had abandoned her "_I am pregnant, not ill_" mantra for the morning – because just then, her "baby son" was running a marathon, it felt like! She was glad to have Maria Elena's assistance. She gently slid into the leather-lined executive chair and relaxed, gently cradling her stomach.

Maria Elena looked sympathetically at her. "Active baby?"

"Oh hell yes! Jeez Maria Elena, I cannot wait for Thanksgiving, when this should all be over."

**RMRG-RMRG-RMRG-RMRG**

**Monday 16th July 2018, 12:45hrs EST**

**Satellite office of Lowell, Hanson law offices, **

**821 Chesapeake Ave, Annapolis, MD 21403, **

Harm paid off the cab fare and walked up towards the doors of Caitlin's office, taking off his aviator sunglasses. As his eyes adjusted to the gloom inside, he announced his arrival.

"Good afternoon, my name is Harmon Rabb and I am visiting my wife…"

Harm got no further. With a delighted scream of "_HAMMER!_", the receptionist launched herself from her seat, running around the desk (no mean feat in heels) and hugging him enthusiastically.

Caitlin stood up in her office, alerted by the noise and Maria Elena's pronouncement of her husband's old call-sign. She walked steadily and sedately out into the reception area, with her handbag safely on her shoulder.

It was obvious that Maria Elena *had* recalled her husband correctly!

Harm was clutching the woman's shoulders (half-defensively it seemed to Caitlin) and trying to place the woman who now stood smiling before him. "Maria Elena?" He stammered out – and she quickly completed the mantra for him.

"Carmelita Moreno Gutierrez" she continued, then paused; "or Gomez nowadays. Great to see you Hammer – and I am delighted that we have your lovely wife Caitlin working with us here from today."

More than two decades had passed since Maria Elena used to drop by Harm's apartment in DC, to use the wonderful water pressure as she showered off the after-effects and weariness following her long transatlantic flights with Iberia. He still recognized the fire in her eyes and her flawless olive skin – he reckoned (although Jack Keeter had never divulged his girlfriend's age) that she was about Caitlin's age.

"Looking good, Maria Elena".

"Back atcha, Hammer."

She turned to Caitlin. "So what did you see in this big-ego F14-driving lawyer all those years ago, Caitlin?"

Caitlin shrugged, lips pursed, deliberately keeping Harm in suspense as she looked him up and down with her patented "_let me make up my mind_" expression.

"Well, Maria Elena, pretty much everything that you just said. I would like to think that I can justifiably claim that "_the ego had landed_" after I had my wicked way with him more than two decades back."

Both women laughed warmly, increasing Harm's discomfiture at standing between two women who both knew things about him which the other shouldn't know. He shrugged. Ah well, too late now! Caitlin and Maria Elena would no doubt be comparing notes on him at every coffee break for a month! He decided not to add to his woes by mentioning Jack Keeter…

Henceforth, Harm would manage approximately one lunch break per week, off-site in Chesapeake Avenue.

**RMRG-RMRG-RMRG-RMRG**

**Sunday 19th August 2018, 16:37hrs EDT**

**Penthouse suite, 210 E Fairfax St, Falls Church, VA 22046:**

"_Welcome back the flyers_." Once again, Caitlin Rabb's traditional greeting rang out to welcome Harm and Trisha home.

Past the 26th week point in her pregnancy, Caitlin Rabb sat ready to greet the aviators as they strolled into the apartment. She could not believe that she still had three months to go! The pressure of the growing baby was slightly upsetting her balance – resulting in her wearing flat (or very low-heeled) shoes all the time. She was sure that she had not experienced this problem when she had been carrying Trisha more than 21 years earlier. But at no stage would Caitlin Pike *ever* express regret or reservations about a pregnancy at age 50. This son was too important, both for her and for Harm.

She was resting on the settee after preparing a chicken salad lunch for her flyers. The Academy was on the cusp of transitioning between academic years – meaning that Trisha was about to go back as a "_second class_" midshipman for her third and penultimate year at USNA.

For another year, Trisha Rabb had once again made the Superintendent's list and she wore her gold star. The uniforms of the Academy midshipmen were beginning to show small modifications as some of them excelled.

**A/N:** In addition to the cadet ranks, there are also personal award insignia worn on the shoulder boards of "second class" midshipmen (in the third year of their time at USNA. There is also the N-Device, which signifies significant achievement in athletics, as well as the N-Device with a star, for those with outstanding achievement in athletics (making the US Olympic team for example). Those who have earned a perfect score on the Physical Readiness Test have their N-Device surrounded by a wreath. (There are several others, but once again, those are the major awards.)

**RMRG-RMRG-RMRG-RMRG**

With the meal completed, Trisha and Caitlin relaxed on the settee whilst Harm policed the kitchen. The guests were due around 18:30hrs. "Mom, Samantha Wilkinson – Tony Lee's '_platonic sweetheart_' for the next year at least – has asked whether she might attend when you give birth in November. She is shortly starting her final year and she is following the medical path of her dad. She approached me yesterday at our Horsemen lunch to enquire if I would sound you out."

Caitlin chuckled, but was pleased that her daughter's Horsemen associates had the confidence to ask a fairly (no, a very!) personal question. "Please feel free to tell her '_yes_'. Right now honey, I could not care less *who* watches me!"

Trisha followed up. "Also Mom, could I be there also, to see my little brother arrive please? I reckon it's something that I'll be going through at some point in the future." Her frankness pleased her Mon, who had always believed that there should be no secrets between mother and daughter.

"Yes, in fact I would be glad to have my daughter holding my hand as I give birth to her little brother." Caitlin was clearly suffering from the heat. "_Dear God, why did I ever agree to this_?" she asked herself, laughing to show that she was joking. She bent her head down to address her swollen belly. "Not your fault, little one, but you had better behave when the time comes!"

Caitlin followed up. "That looks like my cue to bring you a cold drink, Mom."

With a glass of chilled fruit juice balanced on her bump, Caitlin looked at her daughter. "Trisha, thanks for everything. Your father and I know that you have to concentrate on your studies for the coming year, but I am grateful for your help with the baby."

"Mom, I am really pleased to be getting a little brother." She paused, chewing her lower lip in the manner that her mother used to show uncertainty.

"Mom, I am worried that, if you and I are out with Samuel in his stroller, someone will look at us and assume that he is mine. Worse, they might congratulate you as the grandmother – how would that feel? So Mom, I reckon that this could be rather awkward until I leave USNA."

"Well, Trisha, I reckon that in that circumstance, we tell the truth."

Caitlin chuckled: "Trisha, I would be more worried if *you* were pushing Samuel around the campus on your own! Boy, tongues would wag! Plus, someone would be more likely to make the connection to your father."

Mother and daughter laughed at the silliness of their debate.

"Well mom, thinking that through: I am sure that the Horsemen could incorporate Samuel into, say, one evening per week, to give you and Dad some kind of 'date night'. It is worth thinking through, isn't it?"

Once more, Caitlin and Harmon Rabb were grateful for their daughter's intelligence and compassion for others. All three hugged closely for a good while.

Trisha was delighted to be getting a younger brother; in fairness, she had a chance to build a unique relationship and fraternal bond as Samuel grew older.

She just hoped that Harm and her mom would enjoy a long and happy married life together.

"Hey Mom, when shall we work on your costume for Hallowe'en night?"

"Well, I am – strictly by the calendar – due on Saturday 21st November, so a Hallowe'en party on Wednesday 31st October would gives me just three weeks remaining. I have ten weeks from now to the party and 13 weeks from now to the birth." Caitlin looked disconsolately down the length of her swollen belly. "You know, we're going to have fun designing a Hallowe'en party costume for me Trisha. Shall I just rent a tent and have done with it? After all, I have another ten weeks of weight-gain to Hallowe'en and then onwards to delivery."

Trisha then had a brain-wave. "Mom, I have it!"

Her suggestion was interrupted by the ringing of the apartment entryphone.

**RMRG-RMRG-RMRG-RMRG**

**Sunday 19th August 2018, 18:29hrs EDT**

**Penthouse suite, 210 E Fairfax St, Falls Church, VA 22046:**

"Hello and welcome." Opening the apartment door, Trisha greeted RV and invited him to enter, with the two people standing behind him. Inside the Apartment, Harm instantly recognised the bearing of the gentleman who had stood back to shepherd his wife into the apartment.

Harm set the tone for the visit. "Hello and welcome, I am Harmon Rabb, Trisha's father, but please call me Harm. This lady is my wife Caitlin Rabb. _Welcome_ to our home."

Victor Galindez stepped forward once again, noting how "TP and RV" were holding hands chastely in the corner and watching the diorama unfold between the Admiral and his pregnant wife with the retired Gunnery Sergeant and the stunningly-beautiful teacher from New Mexico.

Trisha could easily see which parent had blessed RV with his lovely eyes.

"Victor – Gunny – it is so good to meet you again."

"The feeling is mutual, sir – Harm. May I present my wife Victoria."

"Hello Victoria and welcome. Trisha and RV: would you please sort out drinks for the collective parents?"

Within ten minutes, all six people were chatting as though they had known each other all their lives. Which, in some measure and in some pairings, they had.

The discussion regarding Trisha's design for Caitlin's Hallowe'en costume was swept away in the conversations as both sets of parents familiarised themselves with the challenges facing the two "chaste USNA lovebirds/friends/colleagues".

**RMRG-RMRG-RMRG-RMRG**

**End Ch20 – "work-life balance" **

**++++++++++++Cut above here for FFN Publication.**


	21. The Vulcan Pain Control Touch

**Red Mittens and a Rose Garden – the Trisha Pike Chronicles, **

**Ch21 – "the Vulcan Pain Control Touch"**

**A/N: AU. **What if there was a long-term consequence to the weekend romp between Lt Caitlin Pike and Lt Harmon Rabb Jr at that motel back in the summer of 1996? What is the responsible way to deal with an unexpected aftermath?

**A/N – link to Canon Episodes:** A "post-canon" timeline puts this into "**_JAG Season 23_****…**" (solely for those who want to count! "Season 24" would start around 20-Sep-2018).

**A/N: Publication date: 11-05-2020:** Thanks for *all* your encouraging PMs and positive reviews – along with your suggestions (many of which *do* find their way into my stories).

**Notes:** **_Mike, UK, 11-May-2020 – msg... I hope you will enjoy – and allow – my slight journey on a "Trek" as the UK begins its first, tentative steps towards planning a way forward from the Coronavirus lockdown._**

**Characters from FFNET – C Pike, H Rabb jr, Faith McBurney-Coleman plus OC**

**RMRG-RMRG-RMRG-RMRG**

**Ch21 – "the Vulcan Pain Control Touch" **

**RMRG-RMRG-RMRG-RMRG**

**Sunday 19th August 2018, 19:17hrs EDT**

**Penthouse suite, 210 E Fairfax St, Falls Church, VA 22046:**

The conversations had flowed easily. Caitlin and Victoria ("_always Victoria to my Victor_") had meshed seamlessly and were clearly plotting further adventures for the two helpless midshipmen whom they had borne, whilst Harm and Victor were at ease in the armchairs, ruthlessly recounting their failures to realise that they had each left behind an impregnated woman more than two decades earlier.

"But Victor, if she didn't tell me, how was I to know?"

"Well Harm, we men *are* expected by our ladies to be completely psychic and omnipresent to meet their needs in all time-zones" Victor replied. He looked across at his son, the spark of laughter twinkling in his eyes. "But I commend my son for his self-control. With your daughter as a willing target, I would find my self-restraint under severe provocation."

Harm raised a Coke: "Amen to that Victor. I guess that our two love-birds are determined to obey the regulations of my Academy, but '_look out the next day after Graduation_' is all I can say."

Around a half-hour later, Victor and Victoria bade their farewells and took RV with them. They would be dropping him back at his Academy dorm before heading back to their overnight hotel at Bay Bridge Airport, across the Chesapeake Bay Bridge in Stevensville.

**RMRG-RMRG-RMRG-RMRG**

**Sunday 19th August 2018, 20:06hrs EDT**

**Penthouse suite, 210 E Fairfax St, Falls Church, VA 22046:**

"OK Trisha, before we load up the bags and head off to the Academy, please tell me about your idea for my Hallowe'en costume."

"Sure Mom." Trisha marshalled her thoughts. "OK, you'll be past week 36 in your pregnancy, the evening will be cool at the end of October and we need to plan for the possibility that you might – at that point – go into labour at any stage. So, it seems to me that there is only one possible costume to match your exalted position as leading lady of the Academy and imminent mother." She smiled, as she absent-mindedly folded a spare blouse into her sea-bag.

"Well?" Caitlin couldn't contain her curiosity any more.

"Mom – it's so simple. You'll be 'Mother Superior' and Dad can match you as a purple-clad Cardinal."

Caitlin Rabb gasped in surprise, then howled with laughter, clapping her hands to applaud her daughter's inventiveness. "Trisha; I like it; no, I *love* it. Hopefully no-one could be offended?"

"No, I don't reckon so. The Chaplain ain't Catholic, we get you a habit that drops to, say, just below your knees. On your legs, you wear my black 'Amelias' to keep your feet and legs warm over your support stockings – and to give you good grip on the ground as you walk – and we see who bites." Trisha was chuckling at her mom's initial surprised expression, which was rapidly morphing into one of amused acceptance.

"So, what about *your* costume this year?"

"Well, RV had got himself another cowboy-pastiche outfit after last year's 'Texas Ranger' outfit, so I am thinking about Amelia Earhart again or a cowgirl – the jods are fine for either character. I can finish with a cowboy hat or flying helmet and then I would wear my brown Amelias this year to complete the costume."

Caitlin nodded. "OK, I am sold. Come on Harm, let's load up for Annapolis".

"Yes ma'am."

**RMRG-RMRG-RMRG-RMRG**

**Tuesday 11****th**** September 2018, 08:30hrs EST**

**Annapolis Satellite office of Lowell, Hanson law offices, **

**821 Chesapeake Ave, Annapolis, MD 21403, **

Caitlin parked the Jeep and made her stately way into the offices. Maria Elena stood ready to shadow her – as she had begun to do, unprompted, since the start of the previous week – but Caitlin made it to her desk without incident. Maria Elena faded away to bring Caitlin a de-caffeinated coffee.

The TV in the Reception was broadcasting the countdown to the 17th anniversary commemorations of the surprise attacks in New York, Washington and – ultimately – a small field in Pennsylvania. Caitlin realised that, the following year, there would be adults walking around who had not even been born on that fateful morning in September 2001.

As was her routine, she patted the black ribbon adorning Dalton Lowne's photograph. Harm, after noticing the picture on one of his earlier visits, had explained to her the significance of Dalton Lowne in the course of the slow-motion car-crash which had been Sarah Mackenzie's love-life until she and Harm had finally extracted their heads from their respective sixes and "got it on."

With 30 weeks now gone (six months and 26 days, she told herself) Caitlin was "_comfortably into the final trimester_" (in the words of the semi-naïve twenty-something assistant obstetrician who was supporting Diana - her main OB-GYN). The second "pearl of wisdom" from the twenty-something was that Caitlin's baby would '_concentrate on ripening_'. Caitlin had been ready to smack the cheerful youngster by the time that the consultation had finished – "_if only I could reach her!_" – and so the thought (and violent impulse) lay unvoiced.

She had settled into her daily routine of standing up, every half-hour or so, to walk around the office suite. Even with air-conditioning in the office, the early-September weather was becoming oppressive. Still, no point in complaining, she realised; it was way too late to think about contraception or a vasectomy for her husband! Mind you, once the birth was over, she didn't want anything interfering with what she was very pleased to acknowledge as a *very* enjoyable married sex-life.…

**RMRG-RMRG-RMRG-RMRG**

**Thursday 27****th**** September 2018, 12:40hrs EST**

**Satellite office of Lowell, Hanson law offices, **

**821 Chesapeake Ave, Annapolis, MD 21403, **

Harm paid off the cab fare and walked up towards the doors of Caitlin's office, ready for his customary once-per-week lunch with his wife. He noticed that their Jeep had been reverse-parked as Caitlin had arrived that morning, ready for a "speedy getaway" in case she needed to get to the maternity unit, which lay 40 miles away in the Sibley hospital complex on the eastern side of the DC Metropolitan area.

The Academy was smoothly flowing through the 2018-2019 academic year and their daughter was continuing to excel. Their "father-daughter" September flight in "Sarah" on the preceding Sunday had been just as enjoyable as the preceding flights. Trisha was taking more responsibility in the air, to the point that Harm was considering investing in a set of CFI-delivered flying lessons for her as a Christmas present to get her thinking about going "solo" during 2019.

"Hi Hammer; welcome back." Maria Elena greeted him with her customary hug and kiss before he strolled nonchalantly into Caitlin's office to entice her out to lunch. Both women laughed warmly, increasing Harm's discomfiture at standing between two women who both knew things about him which the other shouldn't know. He shrugged. Ah well, too late now! Caitlin and Maria Elena would no doubt be comparing notes on him at every coffee break for a month! He decided not to add to his woes by mentioning Jack Keeter…

The short stroll to the fast-food joint was achievable for her in the prevailing air temperatures. Autumn had served notice of its intention to arrive, during the preceding week. Harm had noted that the flight with Trisha had been noticeably colder at altitude - although with the added advantage of a faster climb rate in the cooler, denser air.

Henceforth, Harm would manage approximately one lunch break per week, off-site in Chesapeake Avenue, until Caitlin went on her maternity leave.

**RMRG-RMRG-RMRG-RMRG**

**Sunday 30th September 2018, 11:28hrs EDT**

**Penthouse suite, 210 E Fairfax St, Falls Church, VA 22046:**

"OK Mom, stand up on the block and then please hold still – I need to get this pinned right, all the way around the hem."

Having just laced her mom into the black pair of Amelia Earhart long boots, Trisha was at last ready to get the sizing right on Caitlin's costume for the upcoming Hallowe'en Ball. Part of Trisha's stress stemmed from the fact that Harm's purple Cardinal outfit was still to be completed. A costume shop in Falls Church had provided about 85% of the basic elements for her Dad's costume but further work was required – and *that* was dependent upon completion of her priority task - the "pregnant nun" costume for her mom.

Caitlin stood obediently on the ten-inch-deep block of wood, heels together. She was rather glad that no-one could see her, apart from the obvious audience of her husband and daughter. She could see that Harm was admiring the view and enjoying her slight discomfort. Caitlin Pike (as was) had always been proud of her body. Now, standing on a block of wood in the middle of their lounge wearing just bra and panties (apart from Trisha's black pair of "Amelia Earhart" boots which underpinned her planned costume) she was feeling just slightly self-conscious.

"Mom, I reckon that a longer habit, without a cloak, would work best. It will keep you warmer and you could wear a slip under it, plus I can more-easily lay the knotted rope – the cincture - around you just above your bump and I can get the material to fall more-elegantly." Trisha chuckled. "Oh boy, a pregnant Mother Superior; it's good that the Church has such serious legal problems at the moment, otherwise I can see the odd disapproving views greeting you on Hallowe'en night."

Caitlin smiled back. "Well, on the eve of All Hallows, we are celebrating an old Pagan festival anyway. It serves the Christian church right for dropping a festival on the date of an old pagan event! Oh Trisha, on that theme - I'm thinking of blood-red nail polish as a finishing touch. You and I need to go shopping at some point."

"Mom, you are so wicked!" Trisha was very proud of her mom's sense of adventure. "I'm going to fabricate the habit from a graduation gown, so I will just need to add the wimple, the scapula and the cowl. I reckon that a black pillowcase gives me the basis for the cowl."

"OK Trisha, that makes sense; remind me what the knotted rope signifies?" Caitlin Rabb was looking at the three knots which Trisha had already tied in the white rope.

"Poverty, chastity and obedience." Trisha smirked, looking pointedly around Caitlin's opulent apartment and then focussing upon her mom's pregnant figure. "Yep, I reckon our Mother Superior has failed on all three of those vows by now!"

Within a half-hour, Trisha had all the measurements that she needed. The following weekend, she would be back in the apartment all weekend once the Horsemen gathering had finished, using Caitlin's treasured sewing machine. Her dad was already booked to collect her from around the corner once the meeting in the Galway Bay had completed.

Now approaching the end of her 33rd week of her pregnancy, Caitlin Rabb was getting ready to dial back her workload. The Lowell & Hanson practice had recently picked up a valuable contract to review past litigation cases for another practice which had been censured by the regulator (the DoJ). Much of the workload in the period leading up until Christmas could be accomplished from home with an occasional visit to the office, so Caitlin had volunteered to lead the workload because it matched her preferred working pattern.

**RMRG-RMRG-RMRG-RMRG**

**Saturday 7th October 2018, 18:43hrs EDT**

**Penthouse suite, 210 E Fairfax St, Falls Church, VA 22046:**

"OK Mom, that's my sewing done for the day. Dad, what are the chances of us going flying on Saturday (or maybe Sunday) next weekend please?"

"I'd say better than evens – but let's just check with your mom. Caitlin, you'll be at 35 weeks by then. Would you mind us dropping out for a couple of hours of 'daddy and daughter' time on Saturday afternoon?"

Caitlin was sitting, very comfortably, on the settee as she pondered the question. "No Harm, no problem for me at all. Look, how about we stay over in the Residence on Friday evening, then if Trisha heads back there after her Horsemen lunch, you could drive her out to the airfield…" She paused. "Ah, what if someone sees you?"

"Mom, I'll be quite happy to cycle out to Lee airfield after the Horsemen lunch. That gives you and Dad a quiet, relaxing morning in the Residence and then Dad can drive out to meet me at the Hangar – or in Starbucks. Dad, what do you think?"

"Sounds like a plan. I agree, let's not wilfully seek out publicity for your parentage - the past two-plus years have worked well. So, let's plan to spend Saturday night back here in Falls Church after the flying, then go back over to the Residence on Monday morning? Trisha, alternatively would you prefer to be back in the dorm for Sunday evening?"

Trisha nodded ruefully. "I'm afraid so, Dad – that way, fewer questions get asked. A Saturday night away visiting with my mom in Falls Church presents no problem, but I don't want to miss Monday morning formation."

"OK, we have a plan for next weekend. Caitlin, are you OK with all that and the timings?"

Caitlin Rabb looked lovingly at her husband and daughter, yawned gently and smiled. "Yes, that seems perfect." She dropped her gaze, to caress her mid-riff. "So long as little Samuel here doesn't decide to join in the fun."

"But Mom, you still have five weeks left by next weekend – and he *is* a boy after all!"

"Yes, but just because you were a helpful little baby girl and popped out bang on time for your mommy all those years ago, does not mean that your little brother will be so obliging! Remember, boys often take longer to get the hint when it is time for them to make their appearance." She sat back on the settee and waggled her boot-clad legs at her husband. "Harm, time to unlace me please. Oh and by the way Trisha, you'll be flying in your brown 'Amelia boots' until after Hallowe'en, because your father is doing a great job in polishing this black pair up for the party. They are staying indoors away from dust and mud until November."

"OK mom, no problem - I had guessed that I'd be in the brown pair for Hallowe'en this year. They suit the Amelia Earhart outfit even better than the black pair, probably, so please do not fuss. You definitely need the blacks for the habit. Now Dad, if you just keep an eye on Mom and get her unlaced, I'll go and serve up dinner. Food in ten minutes, people."

As Trisha bounded into the kitchen, Harm gently picked up Caitlin's hand and kissed it. "You know Caitlin, every day I thank God for our lovely daughter."

"Yep – and in five weeks or so, you'll have a second little one to thank your blessings over."

"Caitlin, when we met up again and you used the expression '_mother of your children_', I really didn't think that you would be serious about going through all this again. But I thank the Lord that you did - you are making me *so* happy, darling Caitlin."

"Well Harm, I have to admit that it's been tough - probably the hardest seven months of my entire adult life. The tiredness is worse than I remember 22 years ago and the blood pressure monitoring is new (but very welcome to confirm that I am OK) but realistically I am fine overall. I am pleased that the weight gain is normal and I'll work it off over time – plus breastfeeding will be a great way to shed the pounds anyway." She smiled, then brought up the one subject which she had been keeping at the back of her mind since she had fallen pregnant.

"Harm, there is one thing that I want you to arrange, once the birth is behind us and Samuel is thriving. You will finally have the son that you have – clearly – always wanted, but I would like to ask you to arrange something, entirely for me."

He looked into her eyes; even now, in the seventh month of her pregnancy, she felt her body respond as he uttered his reply. "Name it darling Caitlin."

"A vasectomy – please?"

He nodded. "Seems a sensible and responsible thing to do. In fact, it's something that I was already thinking about." He leaned in and nuzzled the base of her throat. "After all, we don't want anything interfering with our married fun once you are cleared and back to full fitness."

"Thank you, darling Harm. I love you so much."

Harm placed his hand on Caitlin's bump. "Darling, I owe you so much – it's a small contribution from me to ensure our continued family happiness. You are, after all, doing the hard work this year."

**RMRG-RMRG-RMRG-RMRG**

**Wednesday 31st October 2018, 18:29hrs EDT**

**Main Ballroom, Westin Annapolis hotel, 100 Westgate Circus, Annapolis MD, VA 21401:**

".. _and so, ladies and gentlemen, please enjoy your evening. Have fun!_"

Harm completed his address to the audience. Turning from the microphone, he left "the younger generation" to start their Hallowe'en ball. Dressed in the full purple robes of a Cardinal in the church, he was pleased to be standing alongside a heavily-pregnant nun – aka Mother Superior Caitlin Rabb, with her scarlet finger nails and carefully-applied make-up. Standing close by, Trisha ("_Amelia Earhart_") and RV ("_Texas Ranger_") were making ready to head off to the table where the other Horsemen had gathered. Samantha Wilkinson was rocking a passable version of Wonder Woman this year – she definitely had Tony Lee's full attention.

"OK youngsters, we oldies have it sorted for this table. You guys go have fun." Harm noticed that Trisha and RV did not need any further encouragement.

"OK Caitlin, that's us off the hook; I am now superfluous for the rest of the evening. So, darling pregnant Mrs Mother Superior Rabb, what drink might your devoted cardinal obtain for you?"

Sadly, monsignor, it will have to be fruit juice; tonight, I fancy apple please, Harm."

"On my way."

As he approached the bar, he found himself admiring the rear view of what looked like a Federation Star Fleet officer from the old "Star Trek" TV series – there was a utility belt with a phaser and Tri-corder hanging off the hip at each side, along with a very-convincing pair of "Mr Spock" pointed ears visible where the obviously-female officer had piled up her hair into a short pony-tail on the crown of her head. The glossy thigh-length boots were *definitely* not military-spec, accentuating the legs of the Star Fleet officer and reaching to the hem of the mid-thigh skirt, finished off with heels which teetered on the edge of vertiginous.

The Star Fleet officer was clearly comfortable standing there and chatting animatedly with another of the fancy dress participants who, in turn, was dressed convincingly as a Klingon Officer.

Harm found himself gazing at the Klingon, whose eyes were looking back at Harm in friendly acknowledgement. The Klingon waved, causing Harm to step across the room to introduce himself and find out who was waving to…

"Admiral, good evening; I am so glad that introducing this Hallowe'en party was one of the best of your initiatives – along with recruiting my wife, of course." Gesturing to the Star Fleet officer at his side, Jack McBurney had "de-cloaked" as Harm recognised his voice, meaning that the Star Fleet officer was…

"Good evening Faith; what an excellent costume. And Jack, please call me Harm tonight." He turned back to Faith, looking closely at her excellent make-up job. "I trust that your babysitters are sorted?"

"Oh yes Harm: the hotel provides a good and vetted service. Jack or I (or both) will turn into pumpkins at around 11:30hrs and head back upstairs to our suite, to relieve the babysitters. It made sense to have the little ones here, rather than leaving them in the apartment in Admiral Heights. With a 12-year-old and a 10-year-old, they are relatively easy on the babysitters these days." She smiled, opening the "tri-corder" case attached to her utility belt to produce a smartphone. "Set on vibrate and ready for any emergency."

"Well, I wish you a peaceful evening; didn't the Vulcans and Klingons have some rivalries on Star Trek?"

"Maybe Harm, but - dear Admiral - we're discussing a peace mission tonight." Faith's laughter rang around the room – clearly "the Vulcan" was off-duty and enjoying time with her very own Klingon. Harm hoped that the two characters would always be close to each other when the next bout of Vulcan "_pon farr"_ struck on its seven-year mating cycle.

Harm and Caitlin shared their drinks for around ten minutes, before Harm set off again to "work the room." Working his way around the room, it took Harm over 40 minutes before he circled back to the table where Caitlin was sitting, entertaining a steady stream of young midshipmen keen to enquire about the likely delivery date and naming ideas for the Rabbs' new birthday. Trisha regretfully had needed to drop back to preserve the secrecy of her father's identity, so she spent most of the evening with the other Horsemen. she kept half an eye on her mom, however. She just had a sneaky feeling that something was going to channel the magic of Hallowe'en night...

The evening continued through several courses of food and onto the dancing.

**RMRG-RMRG-RMRG-RMRG**

**Wednesday 31st October 2018, 20:37hrs EDT**

**Main Ballroom, Westin Annapolis hotel, 100 Westgate Circus, Annapolis MD, VA 21401:**

"_Admiral Rabb, please return to your table. Admiral Rabb, to your table at the rush._"

Harm extricated himself from a deep philosophical conversation at the far end of the ballroom and scooted back to the table. On arrival, it was immediately clear why he was needed. Caitlin sat uncomfortably in her seat, turned away from the table and with her hands pressed to her sides.

"Caitlin darling, what's wrong?"

Kneeling beside Caitlin, Faith McBurney-Coleman looked up at him. "Harm, her waters have broken but she is fine. There is a long gap between contractions, so you two have plenty of time to get across to the delivery suite, which I understand is over in DC. Which hospital and are you using?

"Sibley Memorial up in Palisades is our nominated OB-GYN as it is accessible from the Falls Church apartment. Fortunately it's only around 40 miles away and under an hour from here – especially at this time of night."

"OK, that makes sense; we should have her there in plenty of time before your son even starts to think about arriving. I reckon that we can be there by 22:00hrs comfortably."

"We?" Harm was slightly slow on the update - and recieved a scornful look from "the Vulcan" kneeling alongside his wife. Faith turned to Trisha, keeping a straight face in view of the audience. "Midshipman Pike, if you are free to continue assisting, may I offer you a lift to the hospital to assist Mrs Rabb? It also gives you flexibility in returning later in the night with me, for morning formation." Trisha recognised Faith's attempt to protect the secret of her parentage and nodded gratefully.

"Why, Captain Coleman, that is most kind; yes please I would appreciate a lift."

Faith turned to her Klingon husband. "Darling, sorry but I need the Porsche. Will you be ok, worst case, with a cab to work in the morning?"

Jack gently grasped his wife's hands, squeezing them together. "Of course darling; you go and help this midshipman. I'll get the kids home tomorrow if necessary."

He paused: "Faith darling - where is your uniform for tomorrow? Have you got time to change now?"

Faith smiled, looked down at her pointed toecaps then looked up at him. "It's tempting, but the changeover won't be a five-minute task. Plus, I shall be driving home at some point before I get ready for work. There is a uniform in the suite upstairs (as well as one at home), so I am not worried."

Trisha nodded gratefully, then quickly dipped Harm's car keys and headed out, tossing a "_Meet up in the lobby_" over her shoulder." Faith responded with a quick "_thumbs up_" and then turned all her concentration onto getting Caitlin up onto her feet and pointing at the door.

Harm spotted another member of the Supervisory board and summoned the man over. A quick explanation followed, after which the other Admiral was very happy to advise Harm: "Admiral, you stand relieved. We shall enjoy and safely complete this evening. Now go and be with your wife. I shall also let Captain McBurney-Coleman's team know in the morning that she may be delayed supporting your wife at the hospital."

"Thanks Andy; much appreciated."

**RMRG-RMRG-RMRG-RMRG**

With Caitlin safely strapped into the passenger seat, Harm sprinted around to the driver's door. Samantha – still dressed in a very convincing Wonder Woman costume - slipped into the back seat and buckled up as Tony Lee slid into the seat beside her, smiling conspiratorially.

Faith was waiting for Harm to load up, her silver Porsche parked just behind his Lexus, with Trisha already strapped in alongside her.

Faith pulled out and swung the Porsche expertly around in a circle, parking up just alongside the driver's door of Harm's Jeep. She swung her legs out of the cockpit and stood tall, before walking across to Harm's vehicle. She looked at him as he leaned on his window frame.

"Harm, I've got the hospital address loaded into the GPS; so may I lead? That way, you have one less distraction when you want to concentrate on your wife." She looked into the back seats: "Samantha and Tony, I assume that you also have smartphones with GPS functions if we do get separated?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"OK. Harm, we are good to go. No need to rush."

"Good thinking Faith. We don't need to break speed limits."

"Straight down the 50 and a loop around the 495 seems to be the best bet for giving Caitlin a smooth ride, Harm."

"OK Faith, lead on."

Faith smiled – the good-quality make-up of her Vulcan persona hadn't moved all evening. "OK Harm, I'll keep it below Warp One all the way." She smiled, touching one finger to her imaginary cap peak in a salute, then she walked back to her car.

Harm watched Faith's gait as she walked to her car. She clearly wasn't comfortable in those heels. But she was looking after his daughter and helping the Rabb family. He slipped off the parking brake, rolled forward and U-turned to take up station behind Faith's Porsche.

Two miles into the journey from the Westin, Faith's car pulled into the side of the road. Trisha bounded out of the passenger door and ran up to Harm's driver's door.

"Sorry Dad, we need a quick change of driver. Faith just cannot drive in those heels."

Looking frontwards, Harm saw Faith walking slowly around the front of her car and clambering in through the open passenger door. He looked back at his daughter, standing at his window. Trisha smiled. "Hey Dad, I get to drive a Porsche *and* greet my brother. What a great night!"

**RMRG-RMRG-RMRG-RMRG**

As the Porsche settled onto the roadway once more, Trisha checked her rear-view mirror. Her father's Jeep was holding station behind. She looked across at Faith. "Good job you brought a co-driver Faith – oh, if I may call you Faith in private tonight, Captain?"

"Yes of course Trisha." Faith flexed her ankles, trying to relieve the growing pain in her feet. "These boots were meant to be for a few short walks around the hotel tonight as part of the Star Fleet costume, then back to the suite – not walking halfway across Washington."

Trisha was enjoying the feeling of piloting a powerful car. "Well Faith, this is reminiscent of that old film 'Pretty Woman', where the heroine is driving Richard Gere's Lotus sports car in boots not unlike what you are wearing tonight."

A knowing smile broke across Faith Coleman's face. "Actually Caitlin, I have it on good authority that Julia Roberts had a body double for her legs in that film!"

"Really?"

"Yep, some long-legged actress from California."

The journey westwards continued smoothly towards DC.

**RMRG-RMRG-RMRG-RMRG**

**Wednesday 31st October 2018, 22:02hrs EDT**

**Sibley Maternal Foetal Medicine, **

**5255 Loughboro Rd NW 1st Floor, Washington, DC 20016, United States**

Faith directed Trisha to the Receiving bay, pulling around to allow Harm to line up Caitlin for the short walk inside. A telephone call ten minutes out had alerted the hospital's reception committee of the incoming mon-in-labour. Faith was just looking idly in through the sliding doors when she recognised a face.

"Hey, Doctor Diana: What are you doing here?"

Diana Evans looked, puzzled, trying to make sense of the scene unfolding before her. A purple-robed Cardinal was assisting a heavily-pregnant Mother Superior across to a gurney, and she was being addressed by a woman dressed in a pastiche of a Star Trek "Star Fleet" uniform, starting with highly-glossed "stripper" thighboots all the way up to realistic-looking Vulcan ear tips. A younger version of Amelia Earhart stood alongside the Vulcan Star Fleet officer, with Wonder Woman standing just behind. Al Capone (Tony Lee), complete with violin case, looked like the most-normal of the six characters in front of her!

"_Oh crap, it would *have* to be Hallowe'en!_" she thought.

She focussed on the face, then realised…

"Faith, err, Coleman? What are you doing here?"

"Bringing in your next customer from the Academy."

"Star Fleet Academy? Surely not!"

Faith chuckled as she answered Di's question. "No, USNA up at Annapolis – the Superintendent's wife Caitlin Rabb is giving birth to their second child." She nodded her head across the parking lot. "Young Amelia Earhart over there, parking the cars, is their first child."

"Oh well, let's get started – but Faith, surely you are on the wrong side of the country - what happened to SoCal?"

"Doc, I could say the same about you but come, let's get Caitlin inside. We'll have time to chat later, I am sure. You and I have obviously both moved east in the past ten years."

**RMRG-RMRG-RMRG-RMRG**

**Wednesday 31st October 2018, 22:39hrs EDT**

**Labour and Delivery suites, Sibley Maternal Foetal Medicine, **

**5255 Loughboro Rd NW 1st Floor, Washington, DC 20016, United States**

Within a half-hour, Caitlin's attending obstetrician had arrived and everything was proceeding smoothly for the Rabbs - although with no sign yet that their son was eager to emerge.

Faith and Diana had caught up on their ten-year gap in history. Just as Faith had been poached by Harm to join the Academy as his XO, so Diana's husband (now a Lieutenant-General) had been posted to the Pentagon in 2014 with his O-9 promotion. The promotion had enabled her to make the move eastwards to Sibley (which was convenient for visiting her ageing mom up in Chevy Chase).

By 04:45hrs on the Thursday morning, it was becoming clear that Caitlin was exhausted, worn out and was emotionally moving rapidly past the point of exhaustion, with no sign of Samuel arriving.

Faith took Diana, Harm and Trisha to one side. "Look guys, this may seem a little unusual, but I'd like 15 minutes to try a relaxation technique on Caitlin; it's harmless but it may just give her the focus that she needs to get this baby out. Samantha, I'll need your assistance." Mystified, Sam Wilkinson merely nodded reassuringly.

Harm shrugged, smiling gratefully. "OK Faith, go for it."

Faith walked back into Caitlin's area, closing the curtains behind her. Caitlin looked up at her, clearly weary and emotional. "Faith, I don't remember Trisha being this difficult when she was being born."

"Well Caitlin, never mind that, let's try something different to get you relaxed and ready to deliver. She leaned across Caitlin, taking both her hands and looking into Caitlin's eyes. "Caitlin, I am going to try something to get you relaxed and then to focus you on one task; look into my eyes…"

**RMRG-RMRG-RMRG-RMRG**

Samantha Wilkinson stood at the side in bemused amazement, idly scratching her Wonder Woman tiara (she was still fully-costumed). "If I had not seen it, I would not have believed it; Mrs Rabb is calm and smiling – she looks totally relaxed now. But I need to find and remember that trick if I am ever in an L&D setting. Well done, Captain McBurney-Coleman."

Harm joined in, looking relieved that Caitlin's delivery was now back on track. "Yes, Faith; well done – so was that an old Vulcan mind trick?" He decided to stay in role for a moment, leading Faith to reply in kind.

"In a way, yes it was, Admiral. I used the** Vulcan Pain Control Touch**; and if you must know I – Lt Saavik - am half-Romulan and half-Vulcan". She preened briefly, before flashing Harm a smile which would have made many a young (male) midshipman's heart leap for joy.

Faith then stepped "out of role" and smiled at Harm, placing a hand on his arm. "Harm, she's relaxed now, and Doctor Di reckons that she only needs around 15 minutes to get set before your son will be joining you and us." The three of them stood around in a small, concerned huddle for around a quarter-hour as the clock edged down towards 05:20hrs.

**RMRG-RMRG-RMRG-RMRG**

**Thursday 1st November 2018, 05:38hrs EDT**

**Labour and Delivery suites, Sibley Maternal Foetal Medicine, **

**5255 Loughboro Rd NW 1st Floor, Washington, DC 20016, United States**

True enough, just 20 minutes later, the new Rabb son slid into the world. Harm and Caitlin shed happy tears as the baby's cries echoed around the room.

With initial checks completed, Harm brought his son out to meet the friends and family who were assembled.

"_Hello everyone, meet Samuel Daniel Harmon Rabb_."

He handed his son to a nurse who needed to take him away for some routine tests, and accepted the congratulations of the assembled group.

Just at that point, several alarms in Caitlin's bay of the L&D ward began to sound off. Faith was elbowed out of the way, as a tall brunette nurse strode into the bay.

For the next few minutes, Harm stood tensely alongside Faith, with Trisha on his other arm. Another alarm began bleeping and he edged forward, eavesdropping on the urgent conversations amongst the medical staff.

The only word that Harm heard was "_haemorrhage_". This took him back to the death of his beloved Sarah back in 2011. He cranked his emotion-meter up to "ELEVEN" and acted. With a despairing cry of **"CAITLIN – NO! Not again!"** he launched himself at the curtain which shielded Caitlin.

Trisha, caught flat-footed by his sudden lurch for the curtain, grabbed for him and missed, grabbing a handful of fresh air. Similarly caught off balance, Faith – handicapped as she was in her spike heels - failed to gain the necessary traction to launch herself to intercept him as he flew towards the door of L&D.

**RMRG-RMRG-RMRG-RMRG**

**End Ch21 – "the Vulcan Pain Control Touch" **


	22. Bringing home baby

**Red Mittens and a Rose Garden – the Trisha Pike Chronicles, **

**Ch22 – "Bringing home baby"**

**A/N: AU. **What if there was a long-term consequence to the weekend romp between Lt Caitlin Pike and Lt Harmon Rabb Jr at that motel back in the summer of 1996? What is the responsible way to deal with an unexpected aftermath?

**A/N – link to Canon Episodes:** A "post-canon" timeline puts this into "**_JAG Season 24_****…**" (solely for those who want to count! "Season 24" would start around 20-Sep-2018).

**A/N: Publication date: 14-05-2020:** Thanks for your enthusiastic reception for Chapter 21, which has brought forward your reward – bringing forward the publication of this 22nd chapter. The next chapter of "Red Mittens" is now likely to be published after Memorial Day, because I am getting ready to spend the rest of May publishing the next chapter(s) of my "Cigars" long-running story: then on to "Damaged"; then "Continuing Commitment"…

**Notes:** **_Mike, UK, 14-May-2020 – msg... _****_(revised names – 15/May/2020)_**

**Characters from FFNET – C Pike, H Rabb jr, Faith McBurney-Coleman plus OC**

**RMRG-RMRG-RMRG-RMRG**

**Ch22 – "Bringing home baby" **

**RMRG-RMRG-RMRG-RMRG**

**Thursday 1st November 2018, 05:48hrs EDT**

**Labour and Delivery suites, Sibley Maternal Foetal Medicine, **

**5255 Loughboro Rd NW 1st Floor, Washington, DC 20016, United States**

With initial checks completed, Harm brought his son out to meet the friends and family who were assembled.

"_Hello everyone, meet Samuel Daniel Harmon Rabb_."

He handed his son to a nurse who needed to take him away for some routine tests, and accepted the congratulations of the assembled group. Just at that point, several alarms in Caitlin's bay of the L&D ward began to sound off. Faith was elbowed out of the way, as a tall brunette nurse strode into the bay.

**RMRG-RMRG-RMRG-RMRG**

For the next few minutes, Harm stood tensely alongside Faith, with Trisha on his other arm. Another alarm began bleeping and he edged forward, eavesdropping on the urgent conversations amongst the medical staff.

The only word that Harm heard was "_haemorrhage_". This took him back to the death of his beloved Sarah back in 2011. He cranked his emotion-meter up to "ELEVEN" and acted. With a despairing cry of **"CAITLIN – NO! Not again!"** he launched himself at the curtain which shielded Caitlin.

Trisha, caught flat-footed by his sudden lurch for the curtain, grabbed for him and missed, grabbing a handful of fresh air. Similarly caught off balance, Faith – handicapped as she was in her spike heels - failed to gain the necessary traction to launch herself to intercept him as he flew towards the door of L&D.

**RMRG-RMRG-RMRG-RMRG**

**Thursday 1st November 2018, 05:54hrs EDT**

**Labour and Delivery suites, Sibley Maternal Foetal Medicine, **

**5255 Loughboro Rd NW 1st Floor, Washington, DC 20016, United States**

Trisha was quicker to gain traction and followed her father through the curtain. A very-determined Faith McBurney-Coleman (despite the handicap of her heels) was only about a second behind her.

Harm burst into Caitlin's room just as the bleeping alarms fell silent. Nurses either side of Caitlin were re-attaching heart-monitor wires and she had her face buried in her baby's face.

Fearfully, Harm croaked out: "Caitlin – darling?"

Caitlin Rabb turned towards him, flashing a weary version of her wide happy smile – and he immediately noticed that her right eye was full of blood.

"Hey Harm, what's all the commotion out there darling?"

"Well, I heard the alarms bleeping…" he sheepishly fell silent, looking at the nurses.

Caitlin sighed. "Look Harm, I pulled off two ECG leads as I moved Samuel around – which set off the alarms. It happens."

"I also distinctly heard someone say '_Haemorrhage' and I was worried_" he continued petulantly.

Again - as though explaining to a four-year-old - Caitlin calmly looked at him and raised an elegant finger to her face, pointing to her blood-filled eye.

"Harm, I blew a blood-vessel during the delivery – our son needed a greater push than I could manage at one stage. I've also remembered that exactly the same thing happened when I was delivering Trisha (remember that I told you her birth was '_challenging_'?). It's no big problem and it will start to fade in a few days." Then she smiled: "Now then, would everyone else like to meet our new son?"

All the friends and family gathered in. Faith used the camera on her smartphone to capture all the "_happy family_" photographs, which she then emailed across to both Caitlin's and Harm's phones. She had a sneaking suspicion that Caitlin would be the better-organised of the two new parents - and would rapidly distribute the family photographs once she was safely cleaned up and out of L&D..

**RMRG-RMRG-RMRG-RMRG**

By 06:30hrs, Faith looked at her watch and nodded to Trisha.

"Miss Pike – Trisha - I reckon it is time to get you back to the Academy."

She looked at Samantha and Tony, who were resting in a pair of hospital chairs, with their heads together. "Samantha, Anthony?" They looked up. "I think we all need to make a move ahead of morning formation."

"Thanks Captain, but how do we get four people into a Porsche?"

Faith smiled triumphantly at Tony's evident lack of observational prowess.

"Simple, Mr Lee – it's a Panamera! Come on kiddies, Wagons East!" She looked at Trisha: "Sorry Trisha, I really don't want to drive barefoot – would you be OK to drive us all back please – even if it means driving into the cold grey light of dawn on the way back?"

"Sure thing Faith – and I'm going to buy you a pair of flat shoes for your car, for the next time you are in such a wonderful costume but need to drive."

"Trisha, that sounds like a deal – although ironically I have plenty of pairs of flats and at least one pair normally in my car. It's just that I cleared the car out on Monday before it was serviced, then the week ran away with me and Caitlin decided to go into labour a full three weeks ahead of her schedule." She looked across at the proud new parents. "Harm, Caitlin, bye for now; if you let Trisha know by 1700hrs tonight what the plans are for visitors and also a likely discharge date, then she can spread the word and we can get visiting rotas scheduled. Well done once again, both of you."

Faith turned on her heel, ready to lead her three midshipmen out of the ward. Trisha smiled wearily – thank heavens her new baby brother had arrived in the early hours of an Academy day which was specifically set aside for private study time.

Trisha would be studying – the inside of her eyeballs for at least six hours!

Harm waved farewell: "Faith, safe journey and thanks for everything."

"Ah: _de nada_ Admiral – that's just what friends do."

Secretly, Faith McBurney-Coleman was still grateful, even 15 years on, for Harmon Rabb's crappy murder trial back in '03. The trial had brought her into contact with Jack McBurney, who had subsequently opened her up in ways which she had – before Jack – not even been able to imagine. She knew, for sure, that the old "OCD robot" Faith Coleman would *never* have even considered the idea of dressing up as Star Trek's Lt Saavik. She looked down – yes, this was an outfit that she truly *owned* now!

"OK Trisha, let's get this show on the road. See ya later, the Rabbs!"

**RMRG-RMRG-RMRG-RMRG**

**Thursday 1st November 2018, 07:23hrs EDT**

**Labour and Delivery suites, Sibley Maternal Foetal Medicine, **

**5255 Loughboro Rd NW 1st Floor, Washington, DC 20016, United States**

Harm settled his chin onto the bed and watched as Trisha fed Samuel.

"I can't believe that I missed out on all this, 22 years ago; thank you, my darling Caitlin, so much for taking this on..." He suddenly paused, causing Caitlin to look up sharply at him.

"Steady Hammer, don't you dare add '_at your age_' – old man!" Caitlin chuckled, swapping Samuel across from one breast to the other.

"Wow Harm, we actually did it – he's here."

"Yes he is; our son."

Harm and Caitlin fell silent as they both watched, almost mesmerised, as their son suckled away for a further five minute before, with a gentle wave of an uncoordinated hand and a yawn which morphed into a hiccup, he slowly began to fall asleep in Caitlin's supportive grasp.

"Harm, would you please take our son and burp him, whilst I start seeing about getting up to go and clean myself up." She pushed the call button, which summoned a student nurse who quickly announced that, if Caitlin could wait about 20 minutes, she would arrange her move out of L&D and up to a private room (with a bath and shower), where she would assist Caitlin with her first steps post-partum. In the interim, she handed Caitlin a fresh hospital gown.

"Harm, the shower and bath sound really good. I am hoping that you have access to some other clothing for me, beyond a very messy 'Mother Superior' fancy-dress costume?"

"Yes of course darling. If you wait a bit (and that nurse just said 20 minutes, didn't she?), then I'll go bring in our sea-bags." He looked down at his own costume and smiled. "I think I'd better arrange to have myself 'de-frocked' as well, but I reckon that you should go first darling, when I get back."

Harm was as good as his word, returning within 15 minutes with two sea-bags. By this time the hospital porter had arrived with a wheelchair, so Caitlin lowered herself gingerly into the chair and watched as Samuel was placed in a heated, portable bassinet supervised by the student nurse.

When everyone was ready, the new – and enlarged - Rabb family set off for the privacy of a ward room on the upper floor.

**RMRG-RMRG-RMRG-RMRG**

**Thursday 1st November 2018, 08:56hrs EDT**

**Private room, upper floor, Sibley Maternal Foetal Medicine, **

**5255 Loughboro Rd NW 1st Floor, Washington, DC 20016, United States**

"Oh, I *do* feel better for that" Caitlin announced after a good 20 minutes under a lovely refreshing shower in the bathroom of the hospital room. She fluffed out her hair with the powerful dryer from her sea-bag, then brushed her hair back into a ponytail to keep everything out of reach of Samuel's uncoordinated hands.

As soon as he recognised his mommy's scent, Samuel was beginning to root hungrily again, so she lifted up the front of her second fresh hospital gown and let him feed.

"Harm, this is going to be hard work for a period of time. We were three weeks early with Samuel's arrival, so we hadn't really nailed down where we were finally going to live once he had arrived. What are your thoughts this morning about where to call home?"

"Cait, I reckon that we should simply consider the Residence as our home base – for some time to come. Apart from our suite, we also have 15,000 square feet in the rest of Buchanan House, along with seven bedrooms. The whole place was refurbished not so long ago, plus it's on the Academy campus so I can walk or cycle to work and can easily pop back to assist with Samuel during the daytime. Also, you won't have neighbours complaining about a crying baby, because they either cannot hear or wouldn't dare complain! Apart from Academy graduates having their wedding photographs taken in the gardens of Buchanan House, we have pretty-much complete privacy. Plus, with everything in one place, we cut out the '_where are my clothes or where is my dress_' scenario."

"OK, counsellor, you make a good point." Caitlin was quite content to settle into "his" housing, as they started their new normal. She didn't want to face a 40-mile commute each way – and the Lowell & Hanson satellite office in Edgewater was very conveniently located for her, when she finally returned to work.

Eventually, she nodded. "Yes Harm; let's sort out the furniture and ship the items from Falls Church and get it across this weekend. I don't want to take up Trisha's time, because she has her own life. I would like to keep the lease going on the apartment in Falls Church at least across Christmas – you know, '_change one thing in your life at a time_' as the old adage goes."

"No problem Cait: I am guessing that you took the apartment with something like a three-month notice break clause?"

She nodded, so he continued. "It may actually make sense to keep it on until the new year, if our Christmas visitors want a DC base during their visit (hint – that would also give us a break and some flexibility and quality time alone in the Residence with our children)."

Caitlin smiled and squeezed his hand as she looked down to check that Samuel was still feeding. "Oh lord, you are right Harm; I hadn't thought of it that way, but yes – we have *our* children with us, ahead of *our* family Christmas celebrations." She snuggled her head under his chin and relaxed with a gentle sigh, supporting a sated Samuel into the crook of her left arm as she settled onto her husband.

"Caitlin; just before you fall asleep, I'm sorry but I need to move, because our son needs to be burped. I'll be straight back." Harm slid out from under Caitlin, holding Samuel ready for his post-feed clean-up – after which, Harm placed him in the bassinet.

By the time that he returned to the bed, Caitlin was already snoring peacefully again. Very soon, Harm joined her in slumber: the post-birth exhaustion and euphoria combined to get him sleeping almost immediately.

**RMRG-RMRG-RMRG-RMRG**

**Thursday 1st November 2018, 12:03hrs EDT**

**Private room, upper floor, Sibley Maternal Foetal Medicine, **

**5255 Loughboro Rd NW 1st Floor, Washington, DC 20016, United States**

To no-one's great surprise, both Harm and Caitlin were still sleeping when Samuel woke up a few hours later, complaining loudly (as only babies can) that he was both hungry and wet. This meant that his parents woke up very shortly after he did and the treadmill of looking after a new-born was well under way! Stirring first, Harm left Caitlin to rest for a short while longer, whilst he tended to the tasks of cleaning their son.

Soon, Samuel was cleaned and dry once more – and announced his hunger to the world! Harm placed Samuel back into the crook of his wife's arm (where the baby seemed to enjoy "nesting" during the stay in the hospital) and then he kissed his wife gently as she began to feed their son once more.

He looked at the lovely picture in front of him and smiled; a thought had occurred to him.

"You know, darling Cait, I have been thinking about our daughter and her life right now after what you said earlier this morning about her leading her own life. I believe that you may be pleasantly surprised, but I reckon that she wants to get involved heavily with looking after her new brother and to help. Oh, it isn't her feeling envious or displaced or anything like that; I just believe that she will be glad to help *her* newly-expanded Pike-Rabb family."

He kissed her forehead tenderly. "Look, how about we discuss it with her, this evening, before everyone goes for a good night's sleep?"

"Sounds good, Harm. Oh, the little one has finished feeding, so would you burp him while I go clean up please?"

She pulled her hospital gown down, then grimaced: "Oh darn, I forgot to get any maternity bras."

Harm smiled, dipping into the side pocket of her sea-bag and producing a small box. "You should find that this is perfect, when you dress. Thank your daughter for her foresight. She bought these for you the other week and she told me that one of the female Academy lecturers was in the shop when she purchased them. Caitlin thinks that she got away with claiming that the nursing bras were not her size!"

Caitlin chuckled, imagining the scene. "Oh that must have been fun. Our daughter, the personal shopper for a nursing mother!"

**RMRG-RMRG-RMRG-RMRG**

**Thursday 1st November 2018, 18:03hrs EDT**

**Private room, upper floor, Sibley Maternal Foetal Medicine, **

**5255 Loughboro Rd NW 1st Floor, Washington, DC 20016, United States**

Harm dialled the well-memorised number for the Rabb-Boone home in La Jolla.

"Hey Tom - Grandad once more!"

"Harm; well done, son. How is Caitlin?"

"Well, she says that she is very sore but very happy - and who am I to argue with that! Tom; is Mom around please?"

"Yep - she is right here."

"Harm, hello and congratulations."

"Thanks Mom; actually, I have to admit that Caitlin did the vast bulk of the work. We were starting to think about whether you guys might like to come east for this Christmas, after our trip to you last December. Have a think and a chat with Tom, so that you'd maybe be able to let us know over the weekend, Mom?"

"Of course Harm; Tom and I will talk and we shall let you know in due course. But congratulations anyway."

"Thanks, mom."

**RMRG-RMRG-RMRG-RMRG**

**Thursday 1st November 2018, 19:17hrs EDT**

**Private room, upper floor, Sibley Maternal Foetal Medicine, **

**5255 Loughboro Rd NW 1st Floor, Washington, DC 20016, United States**

Faith brought Trisha back across to Sibley on the Thursday evening. Both of the adult women looked slightly tired, although Trisha had clearly benefitted from a few hours of sleep.

Harm was quite surprised to see Faith fully back into "normal human" form, with just a touch of blusher and mascara.

"Faith, thanks for all your help last night and through to this morning. By the way, that was quite a costume – it certainly complemented Jack's outfit as well."

"Yes Harm, I felt good in the costume as well – well, up until I tried to drive anyway! But the inconvenience of the night was all worthwhile, to see Caitlin safely deliver Samuel. Now, Trisha and I won't be staying all that long. She has a school day tomorrow and I need to be back to support my husband; he has a case conference at Quantico tomorrow morning, so he'll be off on the road at Zero Dark hundred."

"Fair enough Faith – but thanks one more time."

"The Vulcan" smiled warmly: "Harm, it was my pleasure to assist. Now, let's see your newest family addition once more."

**RMRG-RMRG-RMRG-RMRG**

**Friday 2nd November 2018, 14:03hrs EDT**

**Private room, upper floor, Sibley Maternal Foetal Medicine, **

**5255 Loughboro Rd NW 1st Floor, Washington, DC 20016, United States**

After a night disturbed by three feeds, Harm had surfaced at 06:30hrs and gone in search of coffee in the hospital's cafeterias. Fortunately a new Starbucks franchise had recently extended its opening hours and the staff were alert, helpful – and caffeinated! Harm was delighted to place his first order of the day.

Harm had brought two containers of coffee back with him to the room. Caitlin looked at him with envy (or lust – or hunger!) in her eyes as he waved one cup towards her.

"Oh gimme gimme - *please*! I *need* some caffeine, even if it's just two gulps before I have to feed this little diaper-filling machine again."

Harm placed the cup on Caitlin's bedside locker before he gently lifted Samuel from her arms, for some quality father-son bonding time. Caitlin made a bee-line for the coffee, luxuriating in the strong flavour before she turned, once more, to "_mommy-feed-me"_ duties with her new-born son.

**RMRG-RMRG-RMRG-RMRG**

A little later, Harm had brought along some breakfast food, which Caitlin had wolfed down whilst he munched his way through the vegetarian offering.

"Harm, come lunchtime I want to have some more solid food. Assuming we shall be home tonight, let's aim to get back on track with regular meal-times for the grown-ups – OK?"

"Yes please; the sooner we have order, the better. Plus, come Monday I need to get back into the office. Faith dropped everything to help and I owe it to her to get her back to normal."

**RMRG-RMRG-RMRG-RMRG**

**Friday 2nd November 2018, 17:23hrs EDT**

**Private room, upper floor, Sibley Maternal Foetal Medicine, **

**5255 Loughboro Rd NW 1st Floor, Washington, DC 20016, United States**

"OK doll, ready to blow this joint?" Harm was attempting a cod-Bogart accent – and failing!

Caitlin, sympathetically, picked up his line. "Ah surely am, mah darling husband – did you let Trisha know?"

"Yes, she'll head straight to the Residence and will be waiting for us. I need to take my hat off to Faith again – she brought a bassinet and car-carrier with her last night when she and Trisha visited. This means that we can safely get Samuel into the Lexus for the run back to the Residence."

"You know Harm, every time I come across Faith, she impresses me more."

"She has certainly developed in 15 years. You will hear no arguments from me, Wife!"

**RMRG-RMRG-RMRG-RMRG**

**End Ch22 – "Bringing home baby" **

**Notes:** **_Mike, UK, 14-May-2020 – msg... _**This seems a sensible point to adjourn "Red Mittens" for a while – purely to allow me to concentrate on my other three live stories. Please be in no doubt that Harm, Caitlin, Trisha, Samuel will be back (along with Tom, Trish, Faith etc) in due course.

**++++++++++++Cut above here for FFN Publication.**


	23. New parents and sleepless nights

**Red Mittens and a Rose Garden – the Trisha Pike Chronicles, **

**Ch23 – "New parents and sleepless nights"**

**A/N: AU. **What if there was a long-term consequence to the weekend romp between Lt Caitlin Pike and Lt Harmon Rabb Jr at that motel back in the summer of 1996? What is the responsible way to deal with an unexpected aftermath?

**A/N – link to Canon Episodes:** A "post-canon" timeline puts this into "**_JAG Season 24_****…**" (solely for those who want to count! "Season 24" would start around 20-Sep-2018).

**A/N: Publication date: 01-06-2020:**

**Notes:** **_Mike, UK, 01-Jun-2020 –_**_ msg... Just a little homecoming! Happy new month to all my readers._

**Characters from FFNET – C Pike, H Rabb jr, Faith McBurney-Coleman plus OC**

**RMRG-RMRG-RMRG-RMRG**

**Ch23 – "New parents and sleepless nights"**

**RMRG-RMRG-RMRG-RMRG**

**Friday 2****nd**** November 2018 – 19:39hrs EST**

**Superintendent's Apartment, The Buchanan House, US Naval Academy, Annapolis MD:**

Harm unlocked the front door and began the task of offloading his car into the foyer of The Residence. He knew that, over the coming weekends, he and Caitlin would be moving their possessions out from the penthouse in Falls Church and into here. As he grounded the first bags and turned around to return to the car, Caitlin waddled slowly into the lounge – giving a passable impression of John Wayne after he had dismounted from a large horse at the end of a journey across Montana, Missouri or New Mexico. She looked sore and was walking gingerly at the end of her second day after giving birth to Samuel.

Harm would not wish his wife's discomfort on anyone; he would be pleased to do anything within his power to take away the pain and discomfort that she was experiencing.

He realised that he may very well need to seek his daughter's assistance – and he reminded himself to ask her when she popped round - *if* she came around visiting, he corrected himself. He knew that Trisha Pike, USNA, had her own life, activities and circle of friends.

As he was taking the third load of items into the Residence, a sound of light footsteps closed in across the gravel parking circle.

"Good evening Harm; I wondered whether you might make it home tonight."

"Faith, good evening and thanks for all your help this week."

"Ah, _de nada_, Harm – glad to help a friend. I saw your car arriving from across the site. The reason for my visit is that I have an hour spare now – may I offer another pair of hands to assist you?"

Faith was still in uniform and the late hour of her arrival gave an indication of the workload which his staff and colleagues were sharing – uncomplainingly – between themselves during his absence.

"I am sure that the answer is yes, but kindly refer your wonderful offer to the lady in charge – first room on the right through there, I think." replied Harm pointing a leg at the lounge door within the Residence. "I'm certainly taking these suitcases upstairs; back shortly."

"On the case, Boss-man" smiled Faith with a faux-salute as she headed further into the Residence. As a thought occurred to her and she stopped, spinning around on her heel to address Harm.

"Oh Harm, with Thanksgiving coming up (three weeks from yesterday on the 22nd) – Jack and I have made an executive decision that you guys are coming to us. No arguments, just think of the sleepless nights ahead."

She flashed him her lopsided "Vulcan smile" and, yet again, Harm was heartily glad of Faith's compassion and generosity.

"Thanks Faith – invitation accepted. Please let '_Domestic Goddess_' know as well."

"Sure thing Harm; on my way there now."

**RMRG-RMRG-RMRG-RMRG**

Ten minutes later, the car was offloaded and Faith was sipping tea with Caitlin in the main lounge, reminiscing about her first few nights as a new mom to Loren and Maria, over a decade previously.

"I know that they say we women are biologically programmed to forget the pain of childbirth, but they are right", she admitted. "How else do we explain the fact that, having gone through the squeezing and the straining and the pain once, we do it again some time later?" She shook her head. "Plus I take my hat off to you, Caitlin (I wasn't going to say this before) undertaking this once again after more than two decades of getting fit, getting back to work and enjoying the company of your young adult."

Cait looked at her over the rim of her teacup. "But Faith, I don't think you have ever been exposed to the full-on, 100-watt, Harmon Rabb "_melt your resistance and open you up_" smile.

Faith smiled and leaned forward, whispering a secret to Cait. "But his reputation *had* preceded him here – Jack jokingly offered me a padlock for my pants on the first day!"

"No! Surely the calm Vulcan would resist his charms?"

"Well remember Caitlin, I *am" half Romulan! We do have our secret desires and passions on the twin planets, you know!"

"Yeah right – but that *was* one heck of a costume for Hallowe'en."

The two women laughed in pleasant companionship – just as Trisha strode through the door.

"Hello the house – oh hello Captain… - er, Faith. Hey Mom, how can I help?"

**RMRG-RMRG-RMRG-RMRG**

**Saturday 3r****d**** November 2018 – 03:56hrs EST**

**Superintendent's Apartment, The Buchanan House, US Naval Academy, Annapolis MD:**

Harm arose, woken by his new-born son's gurgling. A quick "whiff test" confirmed a full diaper, so he set about the routine cleaning and re-clothing routine in the ensuite bathroom, having closed the door in the hopes that Caitlin would not be awoken. She was clearly still sleep-deprived (as was he) from the interruption of their son's arrival early two days before. After cleaning Samuel, Harm took the new-born down to the kitchen, where he warmed up some milk which Caitlin had expressed earlier after the final feed of the evening.

Idly thinking about life in general as Samuel fed from the bottle, Harm realised that he still felt slightly deprived that Caitlin had never told him about Trisha's conception and – even more importantly – her birth all those years ago.

However, he had to admit it. His now-wife had done a superb job of bringing up their daughter all those years ago and he was truly honoured that she had agreed to go through the disruption, inconvenience and pain of a middle-age pregnancy to give him the son who now lay peacefully in his arms.

Returning upstairs, Harm unlocked the bedroom door and placed Samuel back into his crib.

Ten minutes later, with near-synchronised breathing patterns, the three Rabbs slumbered peacefully towards the dawn.

**RMRG-RMRG-RMRG-RMRG**

**End Ch23 – "New parents and sleepless nights"**

**Notes:** **_Mike, UK, 01-Jun-2020 – msg... _**


	24. Person of interest

**Red Mittens and a Rose Garden – the Trisha Pike Chronicles, **

**Ch24 – "Person of interest"**

**A/N: AU. **What if there was a long-term consequence to the weekend romp between Lt Caitlin Pike and Lt Harmon Rabb Jr at that motel back in the summer of 1996? What is the responsible way to deal with an unexpected aftermath?

**A/N – link to Canon Episodes:** A "post-canon" timeline puts this into "_**JAG Season 24**_**…**" (solely for those who want to count! "Season 24" would start broadcasting around 20-Sep-2018).

**A/N: Publication date: 13-06-2020:****And now, a bit of light relief, showing how an assembly of information can be woefully wide of the truth.**

**Notes:** _**Mike, UK, 13-Jun-2020 –**__ msg... Beginning the response to my (anonymous) guest's suggestion. (Dear "anonymous", please feel free to PM me, because I would like to bounce a couple of further ideas off you)._

**Characters from FFNET – C Pike, H Rabb jr, Faith McBurney-Coleman plus OC**

**RMRG-RMRG-RMRG-RMRG**

**Ch24 – "Person of interest"**

**RMRG-RMRG-RMRG-RMRG**

**Saturday 3rd November 2018, 11:55hrs EDT**

**Galway Bay Irish Pub and bar, 63 Maryland Ave, Annapolis MD, VA 21401:**

"I tell you guys, he is just so cute. Mom and Dad are wiped out after five weeks, but Mom is producing enough milk so he's happy. Plus, Dad can use expressed milk for the middle-of-the-night feeds, to give Mom a chance to sleep."

Trisha hugged herself in excitement, then looked up as Samantha Wilkinson arrived with a tray of drinks, placed it on the meeting room table then sat with her hand on Tony Lee's shoulder. This was the furthest limit that Samantha and Tony would allow themselves until they were released from the strictures of the USNA honour code. Tony raised his hand across his chest to cover – then grasp – Sam's hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. He swivelled his head to gaze adoringly into her eyes. This was one young man who was entirely happy to have fallen for "_the charms of an older woman_" as the other Horsemen had jokingly described his situation.

"Hey Sam, what's with the drinks?"

Sam looked scornfully at RV. "Randolph Galindez, can you seriously not remember your first anniversary of the meeting, here in this very pub, with that glorious creature who stands there alongside you?"

Simultaneously, Trisha and RV gasped at their mutual amnesia, then laughed and hugged.

"Oh how could we forget that?" RV swung around, his expression full of guilt and remorse – to find the expressions mirrored in Trisha's eyes.

"Oh you are going to have such fun telling your children about this first anniversary" Tom McGee laughed.

The celebratory lunch ran into the afternoon before the grouping inevitably broke up to head off in different directions. Trisha was already lined up to help her parents with Samuel, so RV had volunteered to escort her back onto the campus.

After lunch, the midshipmen paired up as they left the pub, with Tom and Anna making up a de-facto pairing in parallel with Tony/Samantha matching "TP & RV".

**No-one took any notice of the anonymous SUV with blacked-out windows, parked across the street.**

**RMRG-RMRG-RMRG-RMRG**

**Saturday 17****th**** November 2018, 13:32hrs EDT**

**Starbucks coffee shop, near Lee Airport-ANP airport, **

**3059 Solomons Island Rd, Edgewater, MD 21037:**

Harm pulled into the Starbucks parking lot and parked up. Walking across from the outside seat where she had been waiting, Trisha greeted him with a coffee as she wheeled her bike around back to load it into the Lexus.

She closing the tailgate, she hopped into the passenger seat of the Lexus as Harm set off towards the Airfield just down the street.

The dark SUV followed Harm's vehicle at a discrete distance.

**RMRG-RMRG-RMRG-RMRG**

**Saturday 17****th**** November 2018, 13:50hrs EDT**

**Lee Airport-ANP, 3090 Solomons Island Rd, Edgewater, MD 21037:**

Harm and Trisha shared the pre-flight walk-round to ensure that the Stearman was fit to fly. The aeroplane had been refuelled on its return after its last outing, so once the checks were complete, Harm and Trisha were ready to taxi. A short run brought the Stearman to the runway threshold, whence they launched into a clear sky.

Trisha had previously worked out the routing, so Harm took a relaxed seat In the rear cockpit as his aviatrix daughter rolled off the waypoints and mileposts as they flew some 95 miles eastwards to Rehoboth Beach and out over the Atlantic before turning north to cross the coastline over Cape Henlopen on the eastern coast of Delaware. She then set her course resolutely westwards, back to Edgewater.

A blissful two-hour flight out over the eastern land mass saw them returning to the airfield ahead of sunset (due at 16:50hrs). The aircraft had been fully refuelled and carefully pushed back into the hangar before they left the airfield. Trisha peeled off her woolly hat and loosely re-set her hair into its ponytail as she walked alongside her father back to his Lexus. Both were smiling with the exhilaration of their airborne adventure in the fresh air during the afternoon.

It made a lovely shot, with the middle-aged man strolling shoulder-to-shoulder with the tall, long-legged woman in her early twenties.

Neither of them noticed the camera team in the back of the black SUV.

**RMRG-RMRG-RMRG-RMRG**

**Monday 19th November 2018, 10:55hrs EDT**

**Faculty of Naval Architecture and Marine Engineering, USNA, Annapolis MD, 21401:**

Trisha had presented her update on her project; the Faculty were very impressed. Along with RV Galindez as her "code master", her project was cleared for the next phase.

All the faculty members were appreciative and complimentary of her work. RV basked in the reflected glory of TP's efforts, knowing that he was a crucial element in her continued success. She turned to him and winked, flashing him a big smile.

The proposed scaling-up of the idea would need her to travel down to Newport News construction dockyard, to meet with the marine engineers who would be assisting her with "productionising" her idea onto a trial implementation on a small landing craft.

Trisha shivered slightly – December on the open water would be a little cold. Nevertheless, she was pleased that her project had been selected to continue. This would do her attainment record no harm at all – and her parents would be proud. She would just need t break out her "flying underwear" to ensure that she stayed warm during the site visit.

In reality, she always knew that her parents were proud of her!

**RMRG-RMRG-RMRG-RMRG**

**Saturday 15th December 2018, 13:28hrs EDT**

**Starbucks coffee shop, near Lee Airport-ANP airport, **

**3059 Solomons Island Rd, Edgewater, MD 21037:**

Trisha met Harm as he arrived, loading her bike into the loadspace of the Lexus once more. They then adjourned to the coffee shop to catch up on the past fortnight. Trisha had been away on a girls' weekend in Philadelphia the previous weekend, having spent most of her spare time during November assisting her Mom with caring for Samuel.

"So, how is your engineering project going?" Harm asked as they settled into a booth.

"Well, the first onsite meeting took place at the end of November. The marine engineers really like the idea and we are developing a test rig down in Newport." She smiled. "It's one heck of a drive – just over 200 miles each way."

"Well, be careful on the road, especially in this weather. Think about taking my Lexus if the Academy won't provide a vehicle for the trip. I'm pleased that you are making a name for yourself – when's the next visit?"

"We have weekly videoconferences but the next trip (weather permitting) will be the second week of January. The concept rig should be ready to go into the water in early February." Trisha leaned forward, placing her hand on Harm's forearm. "I am so excited – to see engineers fabricating my ideas (plus RV's coding skills on display)."

Harm returned the gesture, gently caressing the back of his daughter's hand.

Neither of them noticed the apparently-loving couple in the corner, nor the camera lens protruding through the woman's long dark hair.

"Come on then daughter, let's get airborne."

"Aye-aye, sir."

**RMRG-RMRG-RMRG-RMRG**

**Saturday 22nd December 2018 – 19:39hrs EST**

**Superintendent's Apartment, The Buchanan House, US Naval Academy, Annapolis MD:**

"Harm, do you have a good sense of humour and did you see Trisha on your travels this morning?" asked Caitlin, as her husband strolled back through the front door after his Sunday morning walk around the Academy grounds.

"Nope, I suspect that the Horsemen were out for a drink last night. Why?"

Trisha held up a copy of that weekend's "National Inquisition" tabloid rag gutter-press newspaper.

Splashed across the front, with several photographs clearly taken in a variety of locations, was the headline:

**"****Academy admiral undertakes private 'classes' with young female midshipman" **

As they reached the "exclusive photo report" on page seven, they were already beginning to laugh.

_**Caitlin began to read the report. "Today, we report on a seeming reversion to the military scandals of the 1991 Tailhook military convention in Las Vegas. A highly-decorated admiral in the US Navy – Harmon Rabb (54), the Superintendent of the US Naval Academy at Annapolis, no less – has been conducting liaisons with a young female midshipman who is young enough to be his daughter. This includes off-site trysts and private flying lessons in his vintage bi-plane, plus evening and overnight rendezvous in his official residence, Buchanan House on the Academy campus." **_

Together, Harm and Caitlin began laughing.

"You'd better call our daughter; someone's going to be funding her next house with libel payments."

"Sure thing darling." Caitlin paused, pursing her lips to resist another smile: "You know Harm, you photograph well – for an old guy!"

"Idiot! But I love you anyway, Mrs Rabb."

"Yeah well, Harm – I am thinking libel and I am thinking compensation into our daughter's fund for a new home."

"I sense a job for your employers at Lowell, Hanson law offices. But I'd better ring Faith to alert her. We don't want anyone in the Academy seriously believing this garbage."

He sighed: "You know, Caitlin, this may be the end of Trisha's anonymity around the Academy. She still has 18 months to graduation. Somebody is going to pay for this invasion of my daughter's privacy."

**RMRG-RMRG-RMRG-RMRG**

**End Ch24 – "Person of interest"**

**Notes:** _**Mike, UK, 13-Jun-2020 – msg... **_

**++++++++++++Cut above here for FFN Publication.**


	25. Don't get mad - get even!

**Red Mittens and a Rose Garden – the Trisha Pike Chronicles, **

**Ch25 – "Don't get mad – get even! Making plans: home for a Rabb Christmas"**

**A/N: AU. **What if there was a long-term consequence to the weekend romp between Lt Caitlin Pike and Lt Harmon Rabb Jr at that motel back in the summer of 1996? What is the responsible way to deal with an unexpected aftermath?

**A/N – link to Canon Episodes:** A "post-canon" timeline puts this into "**_JAG Season 24_****…**" (solely for those who want to count! "Season 24" would start broadcasting around 20-Sep-2018).

**A/N: Publication date: 19-06-2020: The impact of the newspaper article begins to settle – and the Rabb family plot their revenge (sorry, their justified strike-back!) before ignoring the newspaper article and enjoying their Christmas. We drop in on Jack and Faith briefly before Christmas.**

**Notes:** **_Mike, UK, 19-Jun-2020 –_**_ Happy Fathers' Day for Sunday (in the UK at least!) – whilst an outraged father plans how to defend his cub – along with the mother lioness alongside him! _

**Characters from FFNET – C Pike, H Rabb jr, Faith McBurney-Coleman plus OC**

**RMRG-RMRG-RMRG-RMRG**

**Ch25 – "Don't get mad – get even!" **

**RMRG-RMRG-RMRG-RMRG**

**Saturday 22nd December 2018 – 20:04hrs EST**

**Duty Office, Admin Centre, US Naval Academy, Annapolis MD:**

"Officer of the Watch, Captain McBurney-Coleman speaking."

"Good evening Faith, this is Harm – and on a social call basically but with serious intent."

"Good evening Harm; how may I help you? Don't tell me you've forgotten Caitlin's Christmas present?" There was laughter in Faith's voice as she struggled to work out why the Admiral was calling in, two days ahead of Christmas.

"Oh, it is *so* much better than that! Faith, don't be offended by my next question but do you read the 'National Inquisition' – even for a joke?"

Faith switched into "_prim and proper staid Vulcan_" mode for her answer. "Harm, certainly not – what kind of girl do you think I am?"

"Well, clearly not the sort of girl who reads junk supermarket tabloid title-tattle anyway. No, the National Inquisition has run a piece, basically following me around with Trisha, and accused me of having an affair with, quote: '_a young midshipman young enough to be his daughter'_ unquote."

"Oh dear Harm, that is going to prove expensive for them."

"Yes indeed Faith, but watch for anything erupting on the campus over the weekend. I may need a Supervisory Board convened on Monday."

"Christmas Eve, Harm? You're not asking much, are you?"

"Yeah well, if only the muppets had asked, we could have informed them of the reality. Look Faith, my main concern is preserving Trisha's privacy, for God's sake."

"Harm, I know you are angry – hell, I would be too, if Loren or Maria were in the Academy and some arsehole did that to my daughters. OK, I shall start telephoning around now, to convene a Supervisory Board meeting; suggestion would be 1130hrs Monday for a 25-minute conference. That should minimise family disruptions. The other thing, Harm, is that this may constitute a breach of the Patriot Act – harassing military families."

"Oh Faith you are on fire tonight – that is an absolute peach of an idea. Thanks."

"My final thought, Harm, is that you should have NCIS with you when you go and kick down their door – I reckon that Christmas Eve would be too soon, but boy would that wreck their spirit of Christmas!" Faith was chuckling down the 'phone line.

"Now that sounds like a truly evil idea. Great thinking, Faith – and thanks."

"_De nada_, Harm – that's why you appointed me. As OoW, I can put a call into NCIS now, requesting that they contact you after breakfast tomorrow morning."

"Indeed; please make it so. Thanks and goodnight, Faith."

"G'night, Harm."

**RMRG-RMRG-RMRG-RMRG**

Harm closed the call and looked at Caitlin. "Did you find Trisha?"

"Her gym colleague answered her cell; she's in a kick-boxing trial, due to be finishing and free by 20:30hrs."

"OK, good; should we drive over there?"

"No, Harm; my instinct is we stay here; we wait for our daughter to arrive as planned, then we talk to our daughter and then we collectively agree a plan of action. But come the reckoning, I am going to stomp on someone's head for this."

"I suspect that Trisha will activate her support mechanism – the other five Horsemen will be a formidable support network for her."

"Five? Oh yes, RV and Sam Wilkinson. Oh brother, I wouldn't want to be the editor of that paper, when they realise the size of this fuck-up."

"Hmm, and how easily they could have avoided the embarrassment; what were they thinking?"

"I dunno Harm – maybe they were smoking something strong, or illegal – or both? I wonder if…"

Caitlin's musing were interrupted by the ringing of Harm's cell-phone; he glanced at the name displayed, smiled then answered the call.

"Good evening Bud; how are Harriet and the offspring this fine evening?"

"They are all fine Admiral, but that's not why I am calling you."

"Go on, Bud." Harm was intrigued by Bud's "_around-the-houses_" circumlocution.

"Well, it's a bit tricky…" Bud was skirting round an issue.

"OK Bud, let me guess – the Inquisition's story today?"

The relief in Bud's voice – that Harm had pre-empted him – was evident.

"Yes Admiral, exactly."

"Well, Bud; I can clear this up. But I need to take you into my confidence. It is never a good idea to ask a husband to keep secrets from his wife, so could you bring Harriet to the phone and put it on speaker, please?"

"Sure think; give me a minute. _Harriet – it's Harm and he wants to talk to us both_."

The background sounds of distant children's happy voices came over the phone-line as the conference phone was opened up, followed shortly by Harriet's greeting.

"Hello Admiral; I presume that Mrs Rabb is there with you?"

"Yes indeed she is, Harriet – and this evening it's Harm and Caitlin, please."

"Of course. So, how may we help the Rabb family?"

"Well, it is an information exchange between our two families, Harriet. Bud has told me that he's seen the National Inquisition; have you, Harriet?"

"Yes we both read that tasteless article." Harm could imagine Harriet bristling with righteous indignation!

"Well folks, Caitlin and I have something to tell you, which dates from March of 1997 and which I discovered a lot later – some two-and-one-half years ago in the summer of 2016."

The muffled squeak from Harriet let slip the fact that she had just guessed what was going on.

"Bud, has she guessed it?"

Alongside Bud, Harriet was red-faced with suppressed joy; she stood up and did a little "happy dance" around the Roberts' living room.

"I think so, Harm – but please confirm this and put both of us out of our misery."

"OK, well, once upon a time…"

"_Oh for the love of Pete, please get on with it_" screamed Harriet.

"Sorry Harriet; well, the young lady in the pictures – elegantly tall, with long legs from her mother and her father, may show a family resemblance…"

"**HARM!**" Harriet was evidently close to wetting herself with excitement.

"OK guys; we want to announce to you both – in confidence - the presence of our daughter, Patricia Caitlin Harmony Pike, known as "Trisha". She is now a second-class midshipman here at Annapolis, in her penultimate year before graduation."

"Yippee!" Harm had a momentary vision of Harriet spinning joyful cartwheels across the floor of the lounge in Roberts Towers.

"So the paper was totally wrong on this supposed 'relationship' between you?"

A momentary pause had preceded Harriet's positive response. "How disgraceful, Harm; I hope that you and Caitlin will give 'em hell!"

"Oh, my dear Harriet: be assured that we will."

"So, Harm; who else knows about Trisha at JAG?"

"Err, no-one - and could we keep it that way for a while please Harriet? We - in an ideal world - wanted to keep Trisha's parental identity hidden until she graduates the Academy in May of 2020. Obviously the Academy's Supervisory Board are aware and consenting."

"Yes, Harm - I can see that rationale." Harm could imagine Harriet's blonde bob giving a determined nod. "OK, no-one will hear it from us. But come over soon and let us meet this - I would guess - sparkling example of the Pike-Rabb gene pool - please?"

Harm was laughing. "Harriet, in exchange for your silence - you have a deal; Merry Christmas."

"Merry Christmas, Harm."  
Harriet replaced the receiver and turned to Bud.

"_Holy daughters, Batman! Can you believe it? TWENTY YEARS?_"

She sat, in stunned silence for a few minutes - for Harriet, this was an unprecedentedly-low level of activity!

"I just cannot wait until we meet her; she just *has* to be tall."

"Well, Harriet, you can see the photographs there in the magazine and we'll know soon enough when we meet her in the flesh. Why don't you issue an invitation to them?"

**RMRG-RMRG-RMRG-RMRG**

**Saturday 22nd December 2018, 22:45hrs EDT**

**McBurney-Coleman residence, Annapolis MD, 21401:**

"Hey darling, welcome home." Jack McBurney welcomed Faith home with a hug and a gentle kiss. He knew that these Saturday night OoW shifts were a drag on her energy levels, but she had explained her preference for the weekend evening shift by being able to clear paperwork. It meant that she always had the whole of Sunday to be "Mommy Faith" to Loren and Maria.

Faith relaxed, back-heeling the front door closed with a stretch of one long leg as she continued to enjoy her husband's greeting, leaning into him for both support and a tighter embrace.

Separating from Jack, she turned and secured the door, before removing her cover and outer coat, which went to their allotted hooks in the cloakroom. She leaned down and slid off her shoes, which went into the "_to be polished_" shoe cupboard. Straightening once more, she looked lovingly at her husband and then ruined the image by yawning!

"OK Faith, that's you done; come on Lady Sailor, git along up them thar stairs lady and I'll bring the hot chocolate."

"Yes master, Mister Marine! Hot chocolate sounds good."

She walked slowly up the stairs and checked on her daughters. Both Loren and Maria were sleeping soundly. Earlier that year, Loren had finally dispensed with the need for a night-light in her room, whilst Maria (who was a little more precocious) had opted for a darkened bedroom before her eighth birthday.

Unbuttoning her uniform jacket, she placed it on a hanger which she hung in the "cooling down" wardrobe. Likewise, her skirt was hung on a clipped hanger and placed to air until she started her pressing session on Sunday night. Faith still had her little rituals – but far less pronounced than 15 years ago in what she now referred to as her "BJ" (before Jack) phase. Now, he simply loved the "little routines" that made his wife distinctive.

Jack arrived, with the two hot drinks in his hands, and leaned in the doorway to admire the view of his wife. A trim 50-year-old, mother of two (they didn't mention the third miscarriage these days) and with a slim, toned body which still drove him wild after 15 years. He loved the way that her leg muscles flexed as she rolled down the thigh-high hosiery then turned to gaze adoringly at him, as she sensed his presence.

Her trim stomach gave the lie to the fact that she had borne him two daughters with barely a stretchmark in sight. Yes, Jack McBurney was a very lucky Marine, with his very own Lady Sailor.

His mind wandered back 15 years, to the aftermath of the Harmon Rabb trial for the murder of the unfortunate Loren Singer. He had observed his opponent (the then-LtCdr Faith Coleman) as part of his standard Marine "_known thy enemy_" research. He rapidly learned her coffee order, along with the "over-organised" state of her briefcase and her OCD-influenced working patterns.

During one disclosure of exculpatory information, he had strolled into Faith's temporary office in JAG HQ to bring her a coffee (after knocking on her door and announcing his presence, of course) but had inadvertently knocked over her tumbler containing a set of pencils. It should not have mattered (the pencils had already been used, for Pete's sake and would need a re-sharpening before she would be able to re-use them). Nevertheless, Faith had suffered a severe sense-of-humour failure as her pot-full of spilled pencils rolled across the desk and dropped, one-by-one, onto the carpet.

Feeling honour-bound to help her, Jack had bent down to assist – resulting in him clashing foreheads (gently) with Faith. Thank God that she had (belatedly) seen the funny side!

On instinct, he had placed the pencils into one hand, then he had reached across the gap between them and held out his other hand to her. Shyly she had reached out and taken his hand, strengthening her grip as she slowly pulled herself closer. His single phrase: "_Coffee sometime, outside of here?_" had caused her a moment of confusion, before she nodded decisively.

Thus the Faith and Jack love story had begun on such a simple basis.

A further invitation to coffee was followed by a run together in Rock Creek Park over the following weekend and then, finally after two more months, a "proper date" on July 4th of 2003. From there, Faith had opened up steadily, revealing her previous heartache and the sins which she perceived had been done to her. It was clear, from their earliest meetings away from their office surroundings, that Faith Coleman needed to be handled carefully. Jack was ready to deliver the "careful handling", because he could see that this lovely, nervous, damaged woman would be a prize worth winning when she blossomed.

Jack had abandoned his "_storm the beaches_" USMC approach when it came to dealing with Faith Coleman, adopting a slower, more-respectful and infinitely-more-patient approach as he pursued this damaged woman with the goal of winning her love eventually. Slowly, the warmth (and width) of her smile had grown under his steady affection. His patient approach had eventually been rewarded, with the undying love of a beautiful, smart woman along (over time) with the gift of two lovely daughters. Faith Coleman had blossomed under his loving care.

He was also proud to be the only man alive who knew one piece of personal information about Faith Coleman (as was) which no-one else could ever have known. In the throes of passion on their first night of lovemaking – and every time since over the intervening 14 years – Faith Coleman's expression went blank, then she grunted, then she went cross-eyed as her orgasm took her over the edge and down into the Land of Fulfilment! Jack never – ever – risked making a joke about the Android operating system re-booting after data entry! It didn't stop him thinking it to himself however – and he always smiled to see his wife so completely sated and fulfilled.

Somehow, the coffee and the accident with the pencils, back in '03, had launched him on the path for marriage, fatherhood and a life-time partnership with a truly awesome (if unappreciated by some) woman. He was very proud to be Faith's husband.

**RMRG-RMRG-RMRG-RMRG**

He was always proud to see his wife wearing good clothes and he enjoyed her dress sense, be it what she chose to wear beneath her all-concealing uniforms (for both their pleasures!) or in one of her many casual outfits.

Faith McBurney-Coleman was definitely a clothes-horse. Mind you, the Vulcan/Romulan Star Trek Star Fleet uniform which she had worn on Hallowe'en for the dance had been especially *hot*, he thought to himself.

Meantime back in the present time, the Romulan's eyes had focussed upon him tonight - and only him as he turned once more to face her! _Drat, busted!_

"Admiring the view, darling husband?"

"Oh yes, darling wife. Drinks are here." Jack had finished his chocolate during Faith's impromptu striptease. Faith took a sip of her drink with an appreciative smile and then placed it on her bedside table as she continued undressing. She licked her lips, savouring the chocolate aftertaste.

"Mmm, thanks." She unclipped her bra, washed quickly and then pulled on her winter nightdress – a Victorian-style neck-to-floor cotton nightdress which Jack had once mistakenly described as a "_lovely passion killer_" – coincidentally on the night when they had conceived Loren!

"So, went the day well?"

Faith nodded, sipping her chocolate.

"Pretty well, but with a twist. I need to pop to the convenience shop tomorrow and grab a copy of the National Inquisition."

"Oh really? What's the interest in that rag?" Jack's eyebrows, so eloquently expressive in the courtroom, led her to continue.

"Apparently some muppet reporter had been following Harm and his daughter for a few weeks - and has then jumped to the conclusion (entirely wrongly, of course!) that there is some sort of May-to-September love affair going on."

"Oops, that's going to knock a hole in somebody's libel budget."

"Exactly." Faith finished her hot chocolate and placed the mug on a coaster on her bedside table. Turning back to face her husband, her eyes flashed with passion.

"Now come on, Mister Marine; remind me why I love you so much."

"With pleasure, Lady Sailor."

**RMRG-RMRG-RMRG-RMRG**

**Sunday 23rd December 2018, 11:20hrs EDT**

**Upstairs meeting room, Galway Bay Irish Pub and bar, 63 Maryland Ave, Annapolis MD, VA 21401:**

Trisha walked straight into RV's arms when she arrived. They rested their foreheads together, their hands rubbing each other's back in reassurance.

After a good few minutes of silent communion, Trisha pulled back and sighed.

"Oh God, I know this is wrong but I just needed that". She gave him a chaste peck on the cheek, then she stepped back and sat down to soak up the sympathetic expressions of her fellow Horsemen. Samantha and Tony – who potentially had more to lose than anyone else around the table if news about their friendship ever got out – opened the conversation. Sam had a copy of the offending "newspaper" in her hand.

"Trisha, this is so wrong on so many levels; what were these clowns thinking?" Sam was livid, her cheeks burning bright red as her foot tapped urgently in the bar-room floor.

Trisha smiled conspiratorially. "Well Sam, my Dad – the Admiral, as you may recall – has a saying: "_Don't get mad; get even_." So that is what we are going to do; my Mom's legal firm will initiate proceedings, plus NCIS are authorised to investigate and probe and arrest the guilty parties under the Patriot Act."

Tom McGee smiled. "Oh I like that plan. Top marks for your Dad, Trisha."

Anna Svenson joined in: "Yes, let's hope they get buried. That article – apart from being so wrong – was really unfair. Whatever happened to journalistic qualifications, leaving aside the right of reply?"

Trisha raised her glass. "And now, here's to happy holidays, everyone."

The Horsemen remained united.

**RMRG-RMRG-RMRG-RMRG**

**Sunday 23rd December 2018 – 15:28hrs EST**

**Superintendent's Apartment, The Buchanan House, US Naval Academy, Annapolis MD:**

"Harm, Trisha should be here momentarily – she called me earlier to let me know that the Horsemen were meeting up for coffee at the Galway. Would you open the wine please?" Caitlin was feeding Samuel, so that he would rest quietly and without complaint whilst the "older Rabb" family members enjoyed a Sunday lunch.

Harm already had the corkscrew in his hand when Trisha rang the doorbell then let herself in with her key. She had secured her bicycle inside the entrance porch

"Hey dad; hey Mom and hello little brother Samuel."

"Welcome daughter. Let me know if you need any luggage brought across from the dormitory."

"Oh yes please Dad; if it helps, I can come across with you when you finish work on Monday."

"Sounds like a plan. Harm was planning the Christmas wind-down. "I intend to close the offices by 12:30 tomorrow."

The home was soon filled with happy conversations as the Rabb family prepared for their family Christmas.

The muppets at the "National Inquisition" were forgotten. The Rabb family plan of action was in place. Christmas was just around the corner.

**RMRG-RMRG-RMRG-RMRG**

**Monday 24th December 2018 – 11:29hrs EST**

**Main Board Room, Admin Centre, US Naval Academy, Annapolis MD:**

"Good morning everyone and thank you for joining this short-notice update and decision session."

Faith opened the Skype call, sitting across the large polished mahogany table from Harm.

The other members of the Supervisory Board reported in (including one from the Virgin Islands, resisting the temptations of the local rum because she would be diving back below the ocean once she had joined in the Annapolis conference).

Five minutes of discussion was followed by ten minutes of "_these are the possibilities and these are the implications_" presentation from Faith.

The consensus of the Supervisory Board of the US Naval Academy at Annapolis was unanimous:

**_"We project our own; we protect our family. Anonymity continues. Harm, go nail these mis-reporting bastards; hang 'em from the yard-arm! Oh, Superintendent: you'd better let NCIS take the lead!"_**

Harm was relieved: "Acknowledged. Thanks everyone for your support. Meeting over; thank you, Officer of the Watch."

"My pleasure, Admiral. Now then Harm, time for us to head home – unless you want me to raise NCIS and update them after your conversation yesterday?"

"That is a very good idea indeed Faith; thanks once more. OK, book me a call to NCIS then you go hug Jack and your girls; we shall see you in the New Year unless we have an emergency."

"Agreed; Merry Christmas, Harm."

"Merry Christmas, Faith."

**RMRG-RMRG-RMRG-RMRG**

**End Ch25 – "Don't get mad – get even!"**

**Notes:** **_Mike, UK, 19-Jun-2020 – I got a roll on this week, amongst my work commitments and wanted to get this to you before the Father's Day weekend hers in the UK. _**


	26. Inquisition of the Inquisition

**Red Mittens and a Rose Garden – the Trisha Pike Chronicles,**

**Ch26 – "Inquisition of the Inquisition"**

**A/N: AU. **What if there was a long-term consequence to the weekend romp between Lt Caitlin Pike and Lt Harmon Rabb Jr at that motel back in the summer of 1996? What is the responsible way to deal with an unexpected aftermath?

**A/N – link to Canon Episodes:** "Webb of Lies" (S04Ep14) first broadcast 09-Feb-1999. A "post-canon" timeline puts this into "**_JAG Season 24_****…**" (solely for those who want to count! "Season 24" would start broadcasting around 20-Sep-2018).

**A/N: Publication date: 26-06-2020: Edging our story (and the Rabb family) over the line into 2019.**

**Notes:** **_Mike, UK, 26-Jun-2020 –_**_ msg... Continuing the response to my (anonymous) guests and their suggestions from Ch24&25. Disney channel warning for "mild language."_

**Characters from FFNET – C Pike, H Rabb jr, Faith McBurney-Coleman plus OC**

**RMRG-RMRG-RMRG-RMRG**

**Ch26 – "Inquisition of the Inquisition"**

**RMRG-RMRG-RMRG-RMRG**

**Friday 28th December 2018 – 10:25hrs EST**

**Penthouse suite, 210 E Fairfax St, Falls Church, VA 22046:**

"Good morning Admiral; I am NCIS Special Agent Timothy McGee; this is my colleague – 'Very' Special Anthony DiNozzo." Tim's tone gave a clear impression of imaginary "_air quotation marks_" as he pronounced the "special" part of Tony's title.

Harm smiled in welcome: "Gentlemen; glad to welcome you. Please come on in."

Caitlin and Trisha introduced themselves, then the NCIS agents brought out their notebooks and the information gathering began. A copy of the offending newspaper sat on the coffee table.

Tim McGee outlined the approach.

"Basically we have them on a slam-dunk. You, Mrs Rabb, will know the libel laws as a lawyer. From our point of view, the Patriot Act gives additional protections to the families of serving US services personnel and retirees – so you are both covered, as is Midshipman Pike. They've screwed up, so when do we go ruin their Christmas?"

Harm looked at Caitlin, who nodded and looked at Trisha.

"Agent McGee; let them stew over Christmas and the New Year celebrations. We shall maintain a dignified silence until next week. The Supervisory Board know about this foul-up and the lies, so they were fully supportive in the Christmas Eve video-conference - there was an emergency board meeting on Christmas Eve. Hell, let's ruin January for them."

"OK Admiral, your wishes are duly noted; we shall include you in the raid and we shall schedule that for the first week in January. Happy New Year, one and all."

**RMRG-RMRG-RMRG-RMRG**

**Thursday 3rd January 2019 – 09:56hrs EST**

**Headquarters of the "National Inquisition", Grub Street, Washington DC**

The delegation which trooped into the editor's office was impressive. Two smartly-dressed men whose bearing and attitude screamed "Federal Agent", accompanying a sharply-suited lady whose outfit screamed "_lawyer_" (along with "_pissed-off momma bear_"), were followed into the room by a USN Admiral - with a chest full of medals below his aviator wings – and a Midshipman from the US Navy Academy at Annapolis.

"Agent McGee, Naval Criminal Investigative Service; we are here to see your editor – immediately!" Tim had emphasised the "Criminal" part of his agency's title and smiled (like a shark lining up its favourite skipjack tuna appetiser) as he finished the sentence.

The poor editor's PA made the fatal mistake of looking inadvertently at the door marked "Editor". Tony DiNozzo was across the floor like a pouncing cat, opening both doors and standing aside once more to let McGee lead.

"Mrs Winterbourne, I tried to stop them…" the PA's voice trailed off as McGee and DiNozzo rounded up three chairs (one for Caitlin) then sat down unbidden, with Harm and Trisha standing behind them.

You could have heard a pin drop, for several seconds, before McGee began his opening remarks.

The basic sentiment was "_You are screwed; just how deeply depends upon how you co-operate with this Federal investigation_."

"So, I would like to introduce you to Admiral Harmon D. Rabb jr, Superintendent of the United States Naval Academy at Annapolis. To give you credit, you *did* actually identify him correctly."

He paused: "We also want to introduce you to the reason why you may be serving time in a Federal Penitentiary – the young second-class midshipman, whom you accused of having – what was it? - Oh yes."

He read from his notebook:

"**_a young female midshipman who is young enough to be his daughter. This includes off-site trysts and private flying lessons in his vintage bi-plane, plus evening and overnight rendezvous in his official residence, Buchanan House on the Academy campus."_**

He speared the Editor with an icy glance. "Allow me to introduce you to Admiral Rabb's daughter, Trisha Pike. The family preserves her anonymity at the Academy (with the full knowledge of the Academy's Supervisory Board) to give her a chance of a normal life as an Academy Midshipman."

The editor's face was steadily losing colour and her shoulders were slumping steadily. McGee then smiled and turned to indicate the suited lady seated at his left. "I also feel it only fair to warn you that Admiral Rabb's wife – and the mother of midshipman Pike – is here as well. She is a practising lawyer."

"Oh dear." The editor was looking for a tunnel under her desk, wishing for an escape route.

"Well, Mrs Winterbourne, that is a good start – however, what we need to ascertain for our NCIS investigation is the source of your misinformation and – most importantly – how in the hell you failed to carry out basic checks on your source, your information and the accusation before libelling the Admiral and his daughter – not to mention pissing-off Mrs Rabb most egregiously."

As they had planned, Harm joined in with his one and only line. "Look Mrs Winterbourne, I am happy to defend free speech – indeed, I have served in the US Navy for nearly 30 years, but this Grade-A gold-plated fuck-up *must* have gone through some basic checks. How the hell did you get it so wrong before publicly offending my daughter, my wife and myself – not to mention ruining our Christmas with innuendo and error published in tens of thousands of copies the length and breadth of our great nation? This level of fuck-up *must* have involved a team effort - surely?"

Harm sat down and folded his arms across his chest, as all eyes in the room turned to the editor. To her credit, she looked contrite (in fact, she basically had nowhere to hide!).

"OK, Agent McGee, Admiral - and Mrs Rabb and Miss Pike. I find myself unable to explain how this article made it through to publication. It should have been checked at four separate stages, yet seems to have slid through untouched and out into print in our pre-Christmas issue."

"_Then how the fu_…" Caitlin paused as Harm placed a restraining hand on her forearm as she rose from her chair. Her deliberately-chosen spike heels were ready to inflict serious damage on the carpet in the Editor's office – and then someone's head, if Caitlin Rabb was given half a chance! In the seven weeks since Samuel's birth, she had been exercising hard, with Faith Coleman as her exercise buddy. Her leg muscles were back in top stomping form and Caitlin Rabb was getting ready to stomp on someone's head!

By way of contrast, Trisha stood quietly and calmly behind her mom, her midshipman uniform gleaming from cap badge to toecaps.

Harm picked up the conversation. "Mrs Winterbourne, what my wife means is; why did you not vet or check your sources? If you had done so, then you would have realised what is now clearly a pathetic, laughably-wrong handle on a set of photographs. Also, why on earth would you not check with your victims?"

He paused, before continuing. "Oh excuse, me, I meant the subject of your woefully inept 'investigation' into my Academy. What on earth persuaded your paper that it made sense not even to contact the victim/subjects? You already had your alleged 'evidence' so we wouldn't be able to change anything. Therefore you could have published in the next edition after **_CHECKING YOUR FACTS_**... But it would have saved you the embarrassment, costs and professional embarrassment of being proven to be an inept bunch of investigative fuck-wits."

"Well, the reporter wanted to get the story out before he finished and headed to the hospice."

"OK, sounds serious; what was the diagnosis?"

"Terminal prostate cancer; he always looked fairly robust, but when he transferred in from California in the summer, he let us know that he didn't have much time left and so he wanted to get this one last story filed, based upon a whisper he'd picked up from his sources."

**RMRG-RMRG-RMRG-RMRG**

"OK, what's this joker's name and where is the hospice?"

"His name is Palmer Clarkson; he headed home to San Diego for Christmas."

"Wait – did you say Palmer Clarkson?"

Harm's suspicion antennae were flapping. "This would all make a lot more sense if…"

"Do you have a photograph of him?"

The editor, now thoroughly subdued, brought out a picture from a folder on her desk and handed it across; Caitlin was sitting closer so she took the photograph first.

"Good Lord, that could be Dennis 'the arsehole' Brockman", she observed.

Despite a bushy beard and tinted spectacles, Harm was clear enough that the photograph was definitely a strong contender to be Clark Palmer. This type of character-assassination shit-storm was right in keeping with Palmer's old DSD antics. "No, that's Palmer - he's an older adversary from JAG days. Funnily enough, I can remember Mac saying to me (when we were JAG colleagues): '_Don't try to get into Palmer's head, Harm. It's not a nice place to be.'_ She was right."

He turned back to the editor. "So how in the hell did you employ him?"

"Our proprietors out in California emailed to say that he was transferring for six months to be close to his ex-wife and children before he went back to California for the hospice." The editor was looking more uncomfortable by the minute.

"Let me guess, you never met his family members?" Harm had slipped into investigative salami-slicing interrogation technique former JAG mode.

"Well, now that you mention it…" Her voice tailed away to another embarrassed halt.

"This makes a lot more sense; OK, I am going to hand you across to my lawyers, from Lowell & Hanson. They will work with you on a retraction, correction, followed by an injunction to protect my family's privacy – current and future - and a compensation package. After that, agents McGee and DiNozzo here are going to take you through the provisions of a nasty piece of US legislation called the Patriot Act. The provision which affects you is protection of US military families and dependents from harassment and disturbance – which was your crime with that recent pre-Christmas edition."

He paused: "And from now until the day after Hell freezes over, you do NOT mention this midshipman's connection to the Admiral and his family – got it? Your retraction should represent the finest and highest traditions of newspaper journalism – namely, publicly confirming that you fucked up and that you are very, very sorry."

Another embarrassed nod confirmed that the editor knew where her fate lay.

The Rabb family were ready to leave the editor in the capable hands of NCIS. As she stood alongside DiNozzo, Caitlin pressed upon his foot with the pointed toe of her stiletto shoe and whispered in his ear:** "****_My daughter; off-limits. You touch her, you die._****" **She then smiled sweetly at him as she lifted her foot, ready to walk forward.

DiNozzo nodded: "Message received momma bear. Already avoiding the bear-cub!"

**RMRG-RMRG-RMRG-RMRG**

**Thursday 3rd January 2019 – 10:48hrs EST**

**Parking lot, outside the HQ of the "National Inquisition", Grub Street, Washington DC**

The delegation re-grouped briefly. Tim McGee had been running background on the information provided on "Palmer Clarkson".

"Admiral, the address given on the West Coast has an ex-Naval aviator listed – he was dishonourably discharged a few years back."

"OK Agent McGee, what name?"

"Buxton, Admiral. Andrew Buxton."

Harm face tightened. "Goddam X-Man; I knew I should have buried that arsehole". He turned to McGee and his family. "X-man was some lunatic hot-shot Tomcat driver – he mis-identified the Russian flag and wiped out a troop-carrier full of peacekeepers back in '99. I defended him and saved his ass but he should never have been put back in the air – which is why I declined to be his defence when he faced the second charge. What's he gotten himself into now?"

Caitlin would tell, from her husband's tense shoulders and gritted teeth, that "X-Man" Buxton was not long for this world.

**However, in Harm's mind it was "Palmer Clarkson" who would be put to the sword first. That was an outcome with which Mrs Rabb could entirely agree**.

**"Don't fuck with the Rabb family."**

**RMRG-RMRG-RMRG-RMRG**

**The plot thickened!**

**End Ch26 – "Inquisition of the Inquisition"**

**Notes:** **_Mike, UK, 26-Jun-2020 – msg..._**


	27. Planning the Reckoning

**Red Mittens and a Rose Garden – the Trisha Pike Chronicles, **

**Ch27 – "Planning the Reckoning"**

**A/N: AU. **What if there was a long-term consequence to the weekend romp between Lt Caitlin Pike and Lt Harmon Rabb Jr at that motel back in the summer of 1996? What is the responsible way to deal with an unexpected aftermath?

**A/N – link to Canon Episodes:** "Rules of Engagement" (S05Ep02) first broadcast 28-Sep-1999. "Salvation" (S06Ep19) first broadcast 19-Apr-2001. A "post-canon" timeline puts this into "_**JAG Season 24**_**…**" (solely for those who want to count! "Season 24" would have started broadcasting around 20-Sep-2018).

**A/N: Publication date: 19-07-2020: **

**Notes:** _**Mike, UK, 19-Jul-2020 –**__ msg... Happy Sunday_

**Characters from FFNET – C Pike, H Rabb jr, Faith McBurney-Coleman plus OC**

**RMRG-RMRG-RMRG-RMRG**

**Ch27 – "Planning the Reckoning"**

**RMRG-RMRG-RMRG-RMRG**

**Thursday 3rd January 2019 – 17:56hrs EST**

**Penthouse suite, 210 E Fairfax St, Falls Church, VA 22046:**

The Rabb family held a council of war that evening. They would transition back to Annapolis – and the Residence – on Sunday afternoon ready for the next working week at the Academy. For now, Caitlin (and Harm) wanted privacy to develop their next steps in dealing with Buxton and Palmer.

"OK, NCIS have the address; Harm, let's leave the professionals to do this. I have had enough of these fuck-wits messing with our lives."

"Well Caitlin I can see your point, but these guys have messed with my family." He took Caitlin's hand gently, then squeezed it between his thumb and forefinger. "My *family*, Caitlin. That matters to me."

She took his hands between hers, raised them to her lips and kissed his hands, looking deep into his eyes.

"Harm, it matters to me too. But, if I asked you to stop this and leave it to NCIS, would you please do so, darling?"

Caitlin was nose-to-nose facing Harm, then she smiled and kissed him again as he formulated his answer; he was clearly distracted by his wife's ministrations.

He sighed. "Yes, OK darling; what you ask does make sense."

With her outer jacket removed, Trisha spread her arms and hugged both her parents.

"Thanks for protecting me; thanks for bringing in the professionals; but most of all thanks, Mom and Dad, for letting this go. Now then, what's the idea for tonight's meal?"

"How about something slow-roasted – like Buxton and Palmer?"

"Good thinking, Mrs Rabb!"

**RMRG-RMRG-RMRG-RMRG**

**Thursday 10th January 2019 – 09:27hrs EST**

**NCIS HQ, Navy Yard, Washington DC**

"Good morning Admiral, this is Agent McGee, NCIS; do you have five minutes for an update on our case against the National Inquisition?"

"Yes of course, Agent McGee. Please proceed."

"Well, the newspaper is defenseless and we're proceeding steadily (alongside the compensation case which they have fully accepted). We have an interesting set of information from the background checks which we have carried out. Buxton and Palmer were more-or-less brought up as brothers."

"More or less?" Harm's eyebrows were somewhere up close to his hairline as he tried to puzzle out what McGee meant.

"Yes: **X-Man Burton was born on **February 12, 1966. His mother, whilst pregnant, had taken in the child of her sister. Her was born on December 14, 1965 but his mother died in childbirth and his father had been killed in Vietnam in the middle of 1965."

"So, cousins, close together in birth dates and brought up as close brothers?"

"You got it Admiral; weird, huh?" McGee was pleased to have been able to explain the odd circumstances.

"Thanks Agent;"

Harm thought through the facts: **"So the two moms were sisters; Clark Palmer and Andrew Buxton were born two months apart; one mom died in childbirth so Clark was brought up by X-man's mom. Jeez, what a shitty start to their lives."**

Harm pulled himself together. "But hey, my Dad was killed (or shot down, listed MIA and then lost) over in Vietnam but I didn't turn into a psychopath."

He squared his shoulders as he made his decision.

"OK McGee, please proceed with your planned action."

"Will do Admiral – we shall keep you informed; the local team will be conducting the interviews out in California."

"Thanks, Agent McGee."

Ending the call, Harm marshalled his thoughts once more before attempting to decide how he was going to explain this saga to his wife and his daughter.

**RMRG-RMRG-RMRG-RMRG**

**Thursday 17th January 2019 – 10:58 PT**

**Buxton Residence, Scrubbville Flats, Sierra Nevada, California**

"Good morning Mr Buxton, we are NCIS agents and we need to talk to you."

"Sure, come on in. We'll have to talk around my brother's treatment – he'll be transferring to the hospice this afternoon. Now then, what's this about?"

"Well, firstly Admiral Rabb presents his compliments and assures you that he has no desire to deepen your current crop of problems. However both he and his wife, along with the young Midshipman who was libelled, want you to simply answer one question before they leave you alone. They also want you to know that they are not happy."

"Sounds like a good deal; what was the question?"

"**_Dear X-Man; what the fuck were you thinking? Signed, Momma Bear Rabb._**"

Buxton sighed, reaching down to load another bag onto Clark Palmer's IV drip.

"Well, I could claim to be distracted, or I could say that I could blame my brother here. But really, I just wanted Mister Holier-then-thou Harmon Rabb to feel some pain."

With that, X-Man turned back to his near-constant task of tending to his dying brother.

As the NCIS agents left the property, a hospice transportation ambulance drew up and the crew dismounted.

The NCIS agent opened her phone and dialled Harm's number, away on the East Coast. She waited for the call to connect, shading her eyes as she looked out over the beautiful rugged sun-baked scenery.

"Admiral, this is Agent Merriweather from NCIS; I have conducted the interview with Mr Buxton. His brother is en-route as I speak to the hospice, clearly on a one-way journey. I recommend that we mark this case as closed."

Several timezones and several thousand miles away, Harm agreed.

The newspaper compensation would be the final act of closure.

**RMRG-RMRG-RMRG-RMRG**

The Rabb family had endured enough – it was time to enjoy 2019. As he filed the papers away in a drawer in his office desk, Harm's thoughts drifted across several pieces of advice which he had been offered over the years.

**Sometimes, when you begin a mission of revenge, your target is not always achievable. Life is for the living; the best revenge is living well. Oh yeah, there is also one piece of advice which *still* holds true:**

**"Don't fuck with the Rabb family."**

**RMRG-RMRG-RMRG-RMRG**

**End Ch27 – "Planning the Reckoning"**

**Notes:** _**Mike, UK, 19-Jul-2020 – msg... **_


	28. Onwards to a Ring Dance

**Red Mittens and a Rose Garden – the Trisha Pike Chronicles,**

**Ch28 – "Onwards to a Ring Dance"**

**A/N: AU. **What if there was a long-term consequence to the weekend romp between Lt Caitlin Pike and Lt Harmon Rabb Jr at that motel back in the summer of 1996? What is the responsible way to deal with an unexpected aftermath?

**A/N – link to Canon Episodes:** "Rules of Engagement" (S05Ep02) first broadcast 28-Sep-1999. "Salvation" (S06Ep19) first broadcast 19-Apr-2001. A "post-canon" timeline puts this into "**_JAG Season 24_…**" (solely for those who want to count! "Season 24" would have started broadcasting around 20-Sep-2018).

**A/N: Publication date: 13-08-2020:**

**Notes:** **_Mike, UK, 13-Aug-2020 –_**_ msg... An important "rite of passage" in Academy life looms._

**Characters from FFNET – C Pike, H Rabb jr, Faith McBurney-Coleman plus OC**

**RMRG-RMRG-RMRG-RMRG**

**Ch28 – "Onwards to a Ring Dance"**

**RMRG-RMRG-RMRG-RMRG**

**Friday 1st February 2019 – 19:49hrs EST**

**Superintendent's Apartment, The Buchanan House, US Naval Academy, Annapolis MD:**

"Harm, Trisha's back."

Trisha Pike staggered, semi-exhausted, through the door of the Residence. Half a pace behind, RV wandered in, uttering the lament of "_coffee, please_" as he closed the door behind him.

The two middies were returning Harm's Lexus, following the long drive back from Norfolk Naval Yard. They had been down there all week, developing, testing and de-bugging the test rig for her Marine Engineering project.

The omens were good, with 29 out of 30 tests successfully passed. The troublesome 30th test involved a test deployment of new software. As always, "_just a few minutes more_" had become the watchword on the Wednesday night – until the mutual decision was taken to give up at 05:59hrs on Friday as the dawn arrived! A few hours of snatched sleep had preceded the final attempt to satisfy the 30th test scenario once more.

As a result, Trisha had enjoyed (or endured? She wasn't *quite* sure!) the "pleasure" of RV Galindez, sleeping soundly and snoring loudly, with his head resting comfortably on her shoulder for the first half of the journey back to Annapolis. This guy simply *had* to be special! Trisha smiled to herself as she continued to haul her way towards the horizon.

Her patience (and concentration) had finally run out as she headed towards the interchange where she would exit the I-64 to slide onto I-95 for the run north to home. Seeing a "Golden Arches" McDonalds sign in the distance, she dived off the 64 onto the 360, just before the 64 began its contortions as it wound its way around Richmond. She wakened RV as she entered the parking lot.

One comfort-and-coffee stop later, RV was settling behind the wheel and Trisha was reclining the passenger seat and pulling her father's favourite travelling blanket up and over her. She had handed over the map details and current position (just to back-up the GPS display inside the cockpit) as RV took up station behind the steering wheel to continue the journey towards Annapolis.

"_Goodnight Vienna_" was the last communication from Trisha Pike, until RV rolled the Lexus up to Harm's parking lot in the Academy.

A quick mug of Harm's chocolate-enhanced coffee apiece brightened both midshipmen, before Harm quickly drove RV across to his dormitory. Trisha was planning to head across to her dorm later, but ended up sleeping in her parents' guest room. Well, more accurately, she fell asleep on the settee after the evening meal. Harm eventually carried his full-grown daughter up to the guest room, where Kate quickly removed their daughter's outer clothes and they left their grown child to slumber onwards towards the dawn.

Trisha would surface and enjoy a leisurely breakfast at her parents' residence, before borrowing Caitlin's bicycle and cycling across to the Galway for the Saturday Horsemen lunch.

**RMRG-RMRG-RMRG-RMRG**

**Saturday 2nd February 2019 – 09:36hrs EST**

**Superintendent's Apartment, The Buchanan House, US Naval Academy, Annapolis MD:**

"Thanks mom, the ring designs are complete and I'll be wearing it with pride from May onwards."

When she had commenced her third year at the Academy, Trisha had a solid reason to anticipate the events planned for the year ahead – jewellery! She commenced the year as a "Second Class" midshipman and the climax of the year would be the "Ring Dance" in May of 2019, when the "second class" midshipmen would receive their class rings.

The "second class midshipmen" in the class of 2020 had placed orders for their rings in late September/early October, 2018. She would become a "Firstie" (First Class) midshipman when she started as an Academy senior in her fourth year, leading to a graduation in May 2020.

The rings are received at the Academy Ring Dance, which for Trisha would be held in May, 2019 when she would be completing her Second Class Midshipman (a college junior/ third year at the Academy). At the conclusion of the dance, class rings may be worn at the pleasure of their new owners, and always with the class crest facing inwards.

Tradition calls for wearing the class ring on the third finger of the left hand, but females obviously tend to reserve that finger for an engagement ring. Trisha, despite her long fingers (which would have made it easy for her to wear a class ring and an engagement ring simultaneously) decided that she would wear her class ring on her right hand whenever she became engaged...

Kate Rabb had donated her ring stone to Trisha for the manufacturing process, as a link across the Pike generations.

**RMRG-RMRG-RMRG-RMRG**

As she cycled across to the Galway, Trisha thought back over her first two-and-one-half years at the Academy.

From starting as a Fourth Class middy (first year/Freshman), the year is all about climbing the monument and putting that first year behind you.

Third Class (second year/sophomore) is primarily aimed at academics. Students will also be expected to have made a career choice: Aviation, submarines, surface warfare, special operations (SEALs), Medical or JAG Corps, Marine Corps, etc. The Summer vacation is the big event for Third Class - because everyone wants to go home.

Second Class (third year/juniors) order their rings in October and begin making plans for the dance in May. She had kept in mind that only 15% of a class is female, so most guys date outside of the Academy. Harm and Diane Schonke were obvious and notable exceptions, back in the day.

First Class "Firsties" are at the top of the Academy pyramid. Unlike the Marine Corps, which is relatively small, the US Navy is huge, so this was going to be the final year spent with close friends. The chances of friends being assigned together are slim, so her "Four Horsemen plus others" were going to split up.

As an example of this, Trisha knew that Harm had not seen his friends Sturgess and Keeter for years at a time once they had graduated from the Academy.

So, she needed to arrange an escort, to accompany her into the Ring Dance in late May. A "swap" of dancing partners, once she and RV were inside the venue, was almost a given.

But who to invite? Naturally, Tony Lee had accompanied Samantha Wilkinson at her Ring Dance the preceding year (she was now counting down the weeks to her graduation and deployment with the Medical Corps), so *his* dance partner for his 2019 Ring Dance was sorted. Thomas McGee and Anna Svenson had decided on a platonic evening together. She idly wondered how those two would end up - probably as "best friends forever". It was clear that the Horsemen had something special as a group - and she looked forward to future reunions as the years went by.

**RMRG-RMRG-RMRG-RMRG**

**Saturday 2nd March 2019, 11:20hrs EDT**

**Upstairs meeting room, Galway Bay Irish Pub and bar, 63 Maryland Ave, Annapolis MD, VA 21401:**

"_OK, partners please for the foxtrot_." A husband-and-wife team of professional ballroom dancers were drilling the Horsemen in the popular dances. The Foxtrot is perhaps the most popular dance at the Academy, so at least half of the dances at the Ring Dance will be the Foxtrot.

The "Four Horsemen plus additions" had decided to arrange additional dancing lessons ahead of the upcoming Ring Dance in May. Everyone who attends the Academy receives dancing instructions. Naturally some dance better than others (Trisha knew that Harm, like *his* father, was an excellent dancer). The Admiral would be present for the Ring Dance (as would "Mrs Admiral", naturally), but Trisha planned to be dancing _incognito_. Whom could she invite? The problem had been nagging for a while; she was no nearer an answer when she began assisting Samantha with her ball-gown.

Samantha, keen as always to support her "_boyfriend-in-waiting_" as he completed his Academy career in the year behind her, had brought along her dancing shoes and the ball gown which she would be wearing for her graduation. She had spent the Christmas vacation with Tony Lee's family at the Beaumont Lee residence in Athens, GA. Tony's mom had taken Samantha under her wing and had arranged the designs, fittings and supply of a beautiful ball-gown, which Samantha would be wearing with pride at her graduation.

She just needed to practice getting into the structured gown, so the Saturday ballroom dancing lessons provided a perfect opportunity. The small store-room at the end of the upper floor of the Galway provided an impromptu changing room for anyone who wanted to change outfits.

"Wow, what beautiful material" was Trisha's first comment as she took the ball-gown from its protective carry-cover and folded it over her arm at the belt-line. The skirt of the Royal Blue gown was supported with several layers of petticoats. Samantha smiled, as she slipped off her pants, trainers and socks to slip on a pair of thigh-high stockings. As she bent down to buckle on a pair of dancing sandals with smooth soles, she looked up at Trisha to reply.

"Yes, it is a good representation of the 'Southern Belle' - I felt like a character in that Disney cartoon the first time I tried it on. But the real surprise is in the bustier."

She turned away from Trisha, pulling her sweatshirt off over her ponytail before removing her t-shirt and unclasping her bra. She reached out a hand for the dress, stepped into it and then carefully settled the bustier around her upper body. Trisha realised why the top half of the ball-gown had felt heavy - the boned structure embraced Samantha's body perfectly - once the lacing at the back had been completed. Sam turned to Trisha. "I hope you are OK with lacing me up?"

"Yes sure – and I can see why you didn't need the bra. Mom had to do this for my Catwoman costume at Halloween and she often uses a corset - I returned the compliment with helping her into her Wonder Woman costume the other year. Wow, I must say - that really does wonderful things for your body shape, Sam: I think I am envious."

Ten minutes later, the dress was perfectly fitted and Sam glided out into the main room. Tony Lee's appreciation was clear. Trisha slid on her dancing shoes and followed Sam out into the main room.

During the dancing lessons, everyone became more proficient; as she had expected, Trisha and RV's bodies just meshed together and they were soon moving as one. The Ring Dance was going to be perfect!

At the end of the lesson, as she helped to release Sam from the confines of her ball-gown, Trisha still wondered whom she could invite as her escort to the dance. She still had more than ten weeks, but time was running out - plus, she had to choose between gown and uniform as her costume on the night.

As it happened, the answer to her question would arrive, out of the blue, just a week later.

**RMRG-RMRG-RMRG-RMRG**

**End Ch28 – "Onwards to a Ring Dance"**

**Notes:** **_Mike, UK, 13-Aug-2020 – msg..._**


	29. Clark Palmer and the Grim Reaper

**Red Mittens and a Rose Garden – the Trisha Pike Chronicles,**

**Ch29 – "Clark Palmer and the Grim Reaper"**

**A/N: AU. **What if there was a long-term consequence to the weekend romp between Lt Caitlin Pike and Lt Harmon Rabb Jr at that motel back in the summer of 1996? What is the responsible way to deal with an unexpected aftermath?

**A/N – link to Canon Episodes:** none. A "post-canon" timeline puts this into "**_JAG Season 24_****…**" (solely for those who want to count! "Season 24" would have started broadcasting around 20-Sep-2018).

**A/N: Publication date: 16-08-2020:**

**Notes:** **_Mike, UK, 16-Aug-2020 –_** _msg... My grateful thanks to "MTC29" for the idea which sparked this chapter. Additionally, to my faithful and usefully-suggestive "Guest" reviewer - *THIS* is a filler - well, that's how it started!_

**Characters from FFNET – C Pike, H Rabb jr, Faith McBurney-Coleman plus OC**

**RMRG-RMRG-RMRG-RMRG**

**Ch29 – "Clark Palmer and the Grim Reaper"**

**RMRG-RMRG-RMRG-RMRG**

**Saturday 16****th**** March 2019 – 09:49hrs EST**

**Superintendent's Apartment, The Buchanan House, US Naval Academy, Annapolis MD:**

"He's **_WHAT_**?!."

Caitlin Rabb placed a restraining hand upon her husband's forearm and re-read the Special Delivery letter from the law firm out in California.

"Clark Palmer passed away in the hospice on Tuesday 12th March. He appointed you as his executor, with the message that "_Whatever else, Harm, I know that I can trust you_."

"Wow. OK Caitlin, let's fly out on Saturday morning. I shall alert Faith, so that she can cover for me next week. Trisha, would you like to see Trish and Tom next weekend whilst your mom and I attend to a legal matter out in the boondocks of California? You'd need to get back on the Sunday night to fit with your studies on the Monday morning."

"Dad, great idea; yes please, go ahead and book three tickets. I'll fly home on Sunday. So, why the sudden trip to the West Coast?"

"**Simple – I need to drive a stake through somebody's heart**!"

**RMRG-RMRG-RMRG-RMRG**

**Sunday 24th**** March 2019 – 15:49hrs EST**

**Buxton Residence, Scrubbville Flats, Sierra Nevada, California**

"Hello, X-Man; I was sorry (but – to be honest – actually rather relieved) to hear the news about your brother." Harm was still stretching after the four-hour drive across from SFO, where they had landed that morning after a brief stay with Tom and Trish. Samuel's first trip away from home was going well. The porta-crib slotted safely into the rear seat of the rental. The suite at the local hotel had all the facilities which Caitlin was looking for.

"Thanks Harm; especially coming from you, that means a lot. Yes, he had his demons, but he was still my brother from early childhood and I shall miss him."

"Fair enough – I understand and I know the background regarding your parents. Now, he appointed me as his executor, which surprised me. I presume that he had his affairs in order and that there is a file?"

"Yes. He followed your career, even in the slammer. He was, I suspect, a little in awe of you, although he hated you with a passion at the same time."

"Well, I would like to think that he is at peace now. Do I need to take a stake across to the morgue and slam it through his heart to be sure?"

Caitlin's smile, alongside Harm, broke the ice. X-Man Buxton simply smiled and replied. "No Harm, that won't be necessary; I presume, madam, that you are Mrs Rabb?" He held out his hand.

"Yes indeed, Mr Buxton. Caitlin Rabb; I am here to support my husband but, be warned, I need him back east on an ASAP basis by Sunday night, a week from today. I also wanted to meet the person (well, one of the pair) who messed up my Christmas with that stupid garbage in the National Inquisition."

"Ah, Momma Bear Rabb?" Buxton actually managed to look both contrite and slightly embarrassed at Caitlin's confirmatory nod. "It was his idea and, yes, of course, I probably should have called him on it. But he knew that he was dying and he wanted to get this off his chest. I am sorry Mrs Rabb – no-one knew about your daughter's existence and, for that, I am truly sorry."

Caitlin smiled and held out her hand once more. "Well, Mr Buxton, I accept your apology, which was worth today's road-trip. If today's reason for meeting is to teach us anything, it is that a grudge serves no useful purpose - especially beyond the grave. As I understand it, your brother's cremation is scheduled for Thursday?"

Buxton nodded. "So I see no reason why, with the lawyers in town tomorrow, Clark's affairs could not be concluded by Wednesday ahead of the cremation on Thursday."

Caitlin nodded. "That works for us. Then Harm and I will head away, have a brief vacation with his parents and we'll be back at work in Annapolis on Monday morning."

Harm wrapped his arms around Caitlin's shoulders and hugged her gently, kissing her cheek. She had handled the annoyance of dealing with Buxton in her usual friendly but assertive manner – another reason why Harm loved Caitlin so much. On his own, he would probably have gone in with fists swinging – much as he had ended the early encounter with Palmer in the open field surrounded by armed Marine Humvees.

"Good. OK, where do we start?"

**RMRG-RMRG-RMRG-RMRG**

**Monday 25****th**** March 2019 – 11:53hrs EST**

**Buxton Residence, Scrubbville Flats, Sierra Nevada, California**

Caitlin was beginning to get ready for lunch when she found the piece of paper.

_Dear Clark Emerson Palmer: I have reviewed your request for a nomination to the United States Naval Academy, and I am pleased to inform you that I have nominated you for an appointment to join the Class of 1986. Your achievements are impressive, and I am proud to know of a young man with such remarkable leadership abilities, scholastic aptitude, and extracurricular talents in our district. I sincerely hope that you will soon receive an official appointment letter from the United States Naval Academy, but I must remind you that my nomination does not guarantee your acceptance into the academy. Competition for these appointments can be stiff, and each year, many well-deserving, fully-qualified candidates are unfortunately not accepted. That decision is ultimately made by the admissions officers at the United States Naval Academy. Please make sure you have fully completed their admissions requirements and be in touch with the United States Naval Academy to check on the overall status of your potential appointment. Again, I would like to congratulate you on your nomination to the United States Naval Academy. You have worked hard to get to this point, and it is well-deserved. I look forward to hearing about your many future accomplishments in the years to come. If my office can be of any further assistance, please be in contact with us.  
Sincerely, Jerry M. Patterson  
Congressman, California's 38th district_

"Did Palmer attend the Academy?" Kate asked.

"No, he didn't," Harm replied in a firm voice.

Kate ruffled deeper through the cardboard box. "I'll look for the letter of rejection."

"You won't find it," a voice spoke up and Buxton walked into the room. "When Clark read the letter telling him that he would not be appointed, he flew into a rage and shredded it into confetti. The Academy had rejected him, and he never got over it." I think he read as far as _"Dear Mr. Palmer. We regret to inform you that..."_ He did not take rejection well. It was the Academy or nothing, however the US Navy somehow survived without him. Then I joined up, and then when I got to fly – sheesh, let me assure you, sibling rivalry was Clark's speciality! But then he joined DSD and *really* got to hate flyers – especially one allegedly-failed flyer who joined JAG."

He looked pointedly across at Harm, who shrugged.

"That could explain a lot," said Kate.

"Nine out of 10 nominees don't gain an appointment, Kate. You know that," said Harm.

Buxton looked long and hard at the letter. "Clark will be cremated - and I don't want this letter. I'll take it to reception and put it into the shredder."

Harm held up his hand. "I'll take it." Buxton raised an eyebrow, but passed the single page to Harm.

"For god sake, Harm. That man tried to kill you (probably more than once over the years) and to destroy our lives (and the reputation of our daughter) just last Christmas," Kate snarled.

Harm smiled. "This letter is another reminder - another example of Clark Palmer's many failures."

Caitlin relaxed, then walked across and hugged her husband. "Harm, that sounds a little bit vindictive. I mean, the poor sod's dead and the past few months will not have been easy nor pleasant for him."

She looked over Harm's shoulder to Buxton, who nodded briefly, his eyes watering at the recent memories of his dying brother's final struggles to avoid the Grim Reaper.

"Caitlin, this explains a lot; let's make sure that we close the books on Clark Palmer and don't leave Buxton here with any outstanding Palmer problems as he mourns his brother."

"Agreed – but I suggest we need to spend a weekend with your parents after this, then fly home on Sunday. So, we head off to SFO on Thursday night or Friday morning depending on timings, the crematorium, then road and weather conditions."

Harm grinned. "That idea, my darling wife, works for me." He looked across at Buxton.

"Where are you scattering his ashes?"

"Up at Leavitt Lake - we used to fish there as kids; seems fair to let the fishes get some benefit."

"OK - remember, don't fall in; he ain't worth getting wet!"

"Will do, Harm. OK, we have one filing box left to process..."

**RMRG-RMRG-RMRG-RMRG**

**Friday 29th March 2019, 18:53hrs PDT **

**Home of Tom and Trish Rabb-Boone, Hidden Valley, La Jolla, CA 92037**

"Harm, Caitlin, welcome back to La Jolla. We had a lovely weekend with your wonderful daughter."

Trish Rabb-Boone was pleased to see her son and his wife. She and Tom stood at the front door as the Rabbs' rental car pulled up. Tom helped Harm with the cases whilst Trish escorted Caitlin to the lounge. A quick "sniff-test" confirmed that Samuel needed changing - Harm quickly dealt with the problem.

After the first drink and the canapes, Tom raised an eyebrow at Harm.

"So, son, what's the story about this trip?"

"Well, Dad, it began more than 20 years ago with a rogue outfit called the DSD and an self-obsessed asshole called Clark Palmer…"

**RMRG-RMRG-RMRG-RMRG**

**Sunday 31st March 2019 – 20:39hrs EST**

**Superintendent's Apartment, The Buchanan House, US Naval Academy, Annapolis MD:**

"Oh boy, home at last."

"Yep, you call Trisha and I'll take the cases up, then coffee and bed, Mrs Rabb."

"Now that, my Admiral, sounds like a great idea. I'm glad that Trish had the idea of using their laundry centre - I just need to iron and fold tomorrow evening."

"Actually Caitlin, what say we do that on Tuesday evening? I'd like to take you out to dinner tomorrow evening."

"Now that sounds perfect, darling husband."

"Love you, wife. It gives me a chance to say thanks for your support this week, darling."

"And I love you, husband. Hey, I got to spend a week with my lovely husband plus we got to see Trish and Tom, who enjoyed last weekend with our daughter."

**RMRG-RMRG-RMRG-RMRG**

**End Ch29 – "Clark Palmer and the Grim Reaper"**

**Notes:** **_Mike, UK, 16-Aug-2020 – msg... There may be a pause in publication after this. I wish my faithful Beta a well-deserved recovery (my other stories are yearning for your unique enhancements!)_**


	30. A meeting, a re-union and a question

**Red Mittens and a Rose Garden – the Trisha Pike Chronicles,**

**Ch30 – "A meeting, a re-union and a question"**

**A/N: AU. **What if there was a long-term consequence to the weekend romp between Lt Caitlin Pike and Lt Harmon Rabb Jr at that motel back in the summer of 1996? What is the responsible way to deal with an unexpected aftermath?

**A/N – link to Canon Episodes:** none. A "post-canon" timeline puts this into "_**JAG Season 24**_**…**" (solely for those who want to count! "Season 24" would have started broadcasting around 20-Sep-2018).

**A/N: Publication date: 22-08-2020: **Best wishes to the audience-free Indy-500 motor race on Sunday.

**Notes:** _**Mike, UK, 22-Aug-2020 –**_ _msg... Bringing a few threads together!_

**Characters from FFNET – C Pike, H Rabb jr, Faith McBurney-Coleman plus OC**

**RMRG-RMRG-RMRG-RMRG**

**Ch30 – "A meeting, a re-union and a question"**

**RMRG-RMRG-RMRG-RMRG**

**Ring Dance Saturday 18th May 2019 – 17:49hrs EST**

**Dahlgren House, USNA Annapolis MD:**

"Wow, it looks like it belongs there."

Trisha had just slipped RV's Class ring onto his finger. He had elected to wear his ring on his left hand in the traditional style. The Eagle, Globe & Anchor motifs on his dress uniform marked him out as one of the US Marine Corps cadre within the Class of 2020.

Trisha had elected to match his chosen outfit by wearing her dress uniform – White shirt, white short bolero jacket, gold cummerbund and long black skirt. She was saving her ball gown for the Graduation Ball in the following year, when the Class of 2020 finally reached its summit.

He picked up the box containing Trisha's ring. Polished to perfection, the original stone from Caitlin's USNA class ring glistened in the early evening sunlight. He held it the ring out to her, positioned to slide onto her finger.

Suddenly, Trisha had a vision of the future – their joint future. She saw RV Galindez, USMC, on one knee, holding out a solitaire diamond on a plain gold band.

She froze, hands clasped across her waist.

After two minutes, RV decided to nudge the process along – after all, the bar *was* open and they were wasting good drinking time!

"OK, TP – pick a hand."

Trisha held out her right hand towards him and RV nodded – then obligingly slid the ring home. She smiled, looked at the ring, then she looked up at him as she made a promise.

"I am keeping this left hand free until my husband places a wedding ring here." She said – keeping a further thought to herself: "**_And I have a darn good idea of which man I shall be marrying – God willing!"_**

**RMRG-RMRG-RMRG-RMRG**

**Sunday 19****th**** May 2019 – 11:24hrs EST**

**Superintendent's Apartment, The Buchanan House, US Naval Academy, Annapolis MD:**

A slightly hung-over Midshipman Trisha Pike made her way into her parents' kitchen. Despite wearing her running gear under her sweatshirt, she had made the slowest-ever transit across the campus from her dormitory to the Superintendent's home. The Tylenol still hadn't entirely kicked in.

Seeing her arrival – and her delicate state – Harm simply held up a coffee pot and, with his free hand, grabbed a large bottle of water from the refrigerator.

Trisha gave a weary "thumbs up" and slumped onto the couch.

"Good morning Trisha. That ring looks smart."

In line with custom, the ring was turned inwards, so Trisha's right hand was marked with what could have been taken for a wedding band – similar to how her mother had displayed her own class ring on the weekend when Trisha had been conceived.

Caitlin arrived, placed Samuel in his highchair, hugged her daughter and then sat down alongside her to inspect the setting of "her" ring-stone in Trisha's new ring.

"Looks good, Trisha. Harm, please bring the coffees and let's catch up."

"Mom, we had a fabulous time. RV was – as always – a complete gentleman and he saw me safely home to the dorm at stupid o'clock this morning."

"Well, that's another stage in your passage through the Academy. We'll be supporting Samantha Wilkinson on Friday at her graduation."

"Yes Mom – I can't believe that, in a week, she'll be shipping out. I don't know how Tony Lee is going to get through the final year. Rumours are she'll be heading for Tripler Hospital in Hawaii."

"Well, I hope that he has a good deal on his phone package!"

**RMRG-RMRG-RMRG-RMRG**

A restful day around the Rabb home was followed by an early evening meal, for which RV had joined them. Afterwards, Trisha and RV headed back towards their accommodation.

Trisha's hormones were suddenly raging and her mind was in turmoil. Since her vision last night, she had found it had to get rid of the vision of RV as her husband and lover – and the father of her future children. Wow, where had *that* thought come from? But she knew that another year of abstinence lay ahead.

This was going to be a hard 53 weeks – but she was a Pike and she could do this! Outwardly, she just rested her arm around RV's shoulder briefly. "Come on, Marine, time to get ready for the next week of study."

**RMRG-RMRG-RMRG-RMRG**

**Friday 24th May 2019 – 09:50hrs EST**

**Navy-Marine Corps Memorial Stadium, USNA Annapolis MD:**

Harm checked his uniform once more, before ascending onto the podium. He checked the card in his hand:

Public Affairs Office

Graduation

When: May 24, 2019

Time: 10:00 AM - 12:00 PM

Location: Navy- Marine Corps Memorial Stadium

Details: Class of 2019 Graduation

The guest speaker – Patrick Shanahan, the acting US Secretary of Defense - had a keynote speech ready for the assembled graduates.

Harm looked down at the order of service in his hands. Today, as Superintendent, he was once more shepherding a group of the best men and women that his country could produce, into the next stages of their military lives. He offered up a prayer for Diane Schonke's soul. She had been so proud on her Graduation Day all those decades ago, especially when she hugged her "brothers" afterwards. Ensigns Schonke, Rabb, Turner and Keeter had survived four years in the Academy and they had formed a bond which – hopefully - would last a lifetime. Sadly, the sexual predations of a certain Commander Holbarth would disrupt that plan for decades of continuing friendship.

The awards to top-performing graduates were read out and presented; Harm looked out across a sea of happy, enthusiastic, proud faces.

Shanahan's speech was designed to be thought-provoking and to set a tone for the future.

**Shanahan to Naval Academy graduates: learn to embrace failure like samurai and Silicon Valley**

_Patrick Shanahan has a message for the next generation of naval officers: what doesn't kill you only makes you stronger._

_Speaking at the Naval Academy's commencement ceremony in Annapolis, Maryland on Friday, the acting defense secretary and former Boeing executive encouraged members of the Class of 2019 to embrace the mantra of Japanese samurai in their service to the United States._

_"If you ever studied the Samurai culture in feudal Japan, you know the most feared, most dangerous of all Samurai were those who had felt the cut of their opponent's sword, and lived to fight the next battle," Shanahan said. "Why? Because they no longer feared the sword! They could – and would – press the fight, knowing the danger but unafraid of it."_

_While the ensigns and lieutenants he addressed likely won't rush into battle with their sabres at the ready anytime soon, Shanahan argued that this principle is alive and well in the Silicon Valley, where Facebook founder Mark Zuckerberg's mantra of "__move fast and break things__" has become innovation gospel._

_"Today in Silicon Valley, the major private equity investors don't usually put their fortunes behind the smartest young people," Shanahan said. "They look for seasoned entrepreneurs who have gone bankrupt before; who have failed. Why? Because those people know where they went wrong. And they are smarter, wiser, less arrogant, and more capable than those who have never failed."_

_"If you have never experienced failure; if you have not felt the cut of the blade, then when failure finds you — you won't know how to recover," he added._ "

**RMRG-RMRG-RMRG-RMRG**

Afterwards, Harm and Caitlin mingled with the happy parents and families of the now-commissioned Ensigns and Lieutenants in the USN and USMC.

He found himself drawn towards the Wilkinson family; Samantha was joyfully relating a story to her father, with rapt attention from her little sister and her Mom.

"Hello Doc; you must be very proud of your daughter."

"Oh Admiral, hello – yes, indeed I am. You know my wife Anita of course, but allow me to introduce Samantha's younger sister, our little Barbara Serendipity."

As Harm extended his hand to greet Barbara and to introduce his wife to Barbara (Caitlin, of course, knew the older Wilkinsons), his gaze passed over Wilkinson's shoulder to focus on a woman wearing the uniform and gold stripes of a Rear Admiral (Upper Half).

Her face, although lined, was vaguely familiar. As Harm was struggling to place her, Samantha took the initiative.

"Admiral Rabb, I would very much like to introduce you to my biological mother, Admiral Alison Laine."

*HOLY CRAP – ALISON KRENNICK!* was roughly the thought which flashed through Harm's struggling brain – just as Alison smiled and strode towards him, her hand extended.

"Admiral Rabb; how lovely to meet you again after all these years – it must be nearly a quarter-century. I was delighted to be able to support my biological daughter and her adoptive family – who have clearly achieved excellence in encouraging a new Ensign in the US Navy. I read of your appointment as Superintendent – a fitting tribute to your career by all accounts."

"Hello Alison – Admiral. I never knew you had a daughter."

"No-one knew Harm, apart from Samantha's biological father and the Wilkinson family who adopted her at birth. I was delighted when Samantha reached out to me on 2015 on her 18th birthday."

Harm was rapidly trying to run the figures through his shocked brain.

_Alison Krennick had given birth to a daughter. So if she was 18 in 2015, she must have been born in 1997 – so a conception in 1996..._

Alison took pity on Harm.

"Admiral Rabb, I understand from my daughter that she is part of a group, from the Class of 2020, called the "_Four Horsemen plus_" and that there is a young lady called Trisha in that group." She paused: "Wasn't your mom called Trisha?"

"Yes Alison – and she still is; in fact, after my stepfather died, Mom married Tom Boone."

"Good heavens – what a small world."

Caitlin drifted up alongside Harm, placing a semi-possessive hand on his shoulder as she read Allison's name plate. "Hello the Wilkinsons! Good afternoon Admiral Laine."

"Hello Meg, I wouldn't have recognised you. I'm glad that you and Harm found your way back together after the Schonke case."

"Excuse me? I am not Meg!" Caitlin Pike was surprised at this unwarranted intrusion. Who was this Rear Admiral Laine – apart from being overly-familiar with her husband? "I am Caitlin Rabb, US Navy retired. I am also the mother of Harm's daughter - and his son."

Alison had the good grace to look genuinely embarrassed – so Samantha Wilkinson took up the story and tried to pull together the snippets of intel which she had gleaned.

"So, Admiral Laine; you worked with the Superintendent – Harmon Rabb – when he was in JAG?"

A nod.

"As I understand it, you worked cases in 1995-96, after he had worked with the lady here - who is now Mrs Rabb?"

Harm and Alison nodded.

"Are you the JAG Commander who had Harm arrested during the investigation, when his ex-Academy girlfriend was found murdered when her aircraft carrier docked after a cruise?"

Harm nodded, whilst Alison looked increasingly uncomfortable.

"Then, two years later, Harm discovered Diane Schonke's letters and deduced who the killer was?"

Nods all round.

"Admiral Laine, who was the actual murderer?"

"A Navy Commander Holbarth – he had been implicated in Diane's letters, which Harm – the Superintendent – found some two years later in 1998."

"But surely – he was my biological father?"

At this point, Harm's gaze turned towards Alison Laine with a growing sense of sick certainty. Caitlin placed a supportive arm around him as Samantha ploughed resolutely onwards with her questioning.

"But you had worked with Holbarth on the original investigation back in '96 – when I was conceived after you had arrested Trisha's father?"

Alison Laine was now looking *truly* uncomfortable!

Samantha groaned – this was like a bad soap opera! So she summarised.

"So, my biological father met my biological mother whilst she was investigating the death of the girlfriend of the man who now runs the Academy. My biological mother then worked with my biological father - who was the actual murderer (who would be unmasked two years later through letters from his victim who was the Superintendent's girlfriend). My biological mother had a fling with the murderer – resulting in me being conceived: and all this happened around the time that Trisha was conceived by the Superintendent and the lady who is now Mrs Rabb?"

She pressed a hand against her forehead. "But, my biological mother not only got hot and heavy with the murderer, she also had my fellow Horseman Trisha's biological father arrested for the murder of his girlfriend – whom he evidently had *not* actually murdered?"

By this time, Tony Lee and Trisha were starting to chuckle. The Wilkinson family were looking amused as their elder daughter assembled the facts from long ago. Within a minute, the whole party were laughing fit to burst. Standing alongside his wife, Brian Laine was realising what Alison had meant, all those years before in the lead-up to their wedding, when she elaborated on Samantha's birth with her admission of "_I've been a naughty girl_." His retired policeman's antennae were twitching. It was clear that JAG Commander Alison Krennick had produced a bright, tall and beautiful daughter - of whom Rear Admiral Alison Laine was truly proud. By marriage, so was Brian Laine. But boy, what a story!

Samantha then delivered the "_coup de grace_" as she wrapped up the tale.

"Then Trisha's father - investigating with the Marine JAG who would eventually become his first wife - was present when my biological father was revealed in '98 as the murderer of the superintendent's girlfriend? At which point my biological father fell into the dock and kissed the camel?"

Who could possibly write such an implausible set of soap-opera circumstances? Harm decided not to mention that the JAG lawyer accompanying him on the investigation at the time of Holbarth's death was, in fact, a dead ringer for his murdered girlfriend Diane! After all, who would believe *that* plot twist?

But it was an enjoyable story!

**RMRG-RMRG-RMRG-RMRG**

**Friday 24****th**** May 2019 – 16:24hrs EST**

**Superintendent's Apartment, The Buchanan House, US Naval Academy, Annapolis MD:**

A slightly frazzled Harmon Rabb had eventually excused himself from all the families and Ensigns and Lieutenants and hangers-on, to withdraw to the sanity of his residence. It had been truly informative to meet up with Alison after all these years – and she seemed to have chosen a great guy as her husband – the retired British police officer with a great sense of transatlantic humour. And to think that Samantha Wilkinson, Ensign USN, was actually Alison's biological daughter – wow!

Some time later that evening as they snuggled in bed, a further thought occurred to Caitlin.

"You know, Harm – in a year's time that will be *our* daughter graduating. The Wilkinsons - and Alison Laine - looked so proud as Samantha embarked on her Navy career."

"Wow – they grow and they go."

He rolled over and kissed her tenderly. "Thanks, Kate, for bringing our daughter back into my life."

"Well don't forget, number two could be following that career path in around 16 years, if he chooses to serve - and is selected."

"**_Oh brother! Admiral Samuel Rabb!" _**

**RMRG-RMRG-RMRG-RMRG**

**End Ch30 – "A meeting, a re-union and a question"**

**Notes:** _**Mike, UK, 22-Aug-2020 – msg...**_


End file.
